Resurrection III: Stolen Fayth
by AuronLu
Summary: How did young Lulu survive when her first Summoner died deep in the Cavern of the Stolen Fayth? When she secretly returns to pay her debt, she may find the price is more than she -- and Auron -- can afford. Warning: graphic sex, some nonconsensual.
1. Prelude

The sky was a stroke of deepening purple high overhead. Night fell with the eerie howls of distant fiends moaning through the gorge.

A peculiar wave of homesickness washed over the pair from Besaid as Yuna's party filed through a cleft between huge fallen boulders and found themselves in a small grassy area ringed by low, dome-shaped huts. Feeble torchlight flickered on the looming cliffs, and a number of off-duty soldiers were gathered around a small fire-ring near the center of camp. The fitful wind was nothing like the sound of distant surf. Yet Wakka and Yuna tasted a hint of home. The faded colors of the canvas-sided lodges reminded them of Besaid fabrics, and the ragtag Crusaders in their patchwork armor recalled old friends left behind on the bloody Djose shore. One of the officers, a boy who could not be much older than Tidus, was eagerly leading Yuna and her companions towards one of the unoccupied tents.

"Oh, don't worry about it," he was saying. "We have more barracks than men, these days! Plenty of room!" The youth's face faltered for a moment, but he rallied quickly as heads turned curiously towards the party of strangers coming into the sheltered camp. "The Crusaders will rise from the ashes of Operation Mi'hen! But in the meantime, we are glad to assist you and your Guardians, Lady Summoner."

Yuna favored him with one of those bright smiles that always seemed to add a spring to the step of anyone basking in its glow. "Thank you, Captain. We are in your debt." She turned back to her Guardians, stifling a yawn. "Well! That's good news, isn't it? With their patrols we can skip watches tonght! It was a good idea stopping here, Lulu." Suddenly, the young Summoner did a double take. "Lulu?"

"Hey, where'd she go?" Rikku exclaimed.

Yuna's companions turned, bewildered, and scanned the cluster of huts and the dark shadows between them. The scant torches mounted in rocky alcoves were few and far between, reducing most figures to mere silhouettes. However, it would be difficult to mistake anyone else for Lulu. As far as they could see, the dark mage was nowhere in sight.

"I thought she was right behind me!" Wakka glared at Rikku accusingly, as if perhaps the thief had stowed her in a back pocket. Then he cupped his hands to his face, bellowing, "Hey, Lu! Luuuuuu! Don't scare us like dis!"

Their guide paled and waved his hands as the echoes subsided. "Please, sir, keep your voice down! We don't want to draw fiends to our base."

"Lu." Wakka balled his hands into fists. "Dammit! She got out of the cavern with us, didn't she?"

"Calm down." Even Auron, standing stiffly beside Yuna and peering out into the darkness, sounded faintly irked. "Lulu can take care of herself."

Tidus punched Wakka's shoulder. "Yeah. We'd be hearing booms already, if she'd run into trouble. Right?"

"Right." Yuna spoke briskly and calmly, although her hands twisted restlessly around her staff, betraying the same concern that was written plainly on Wakka's face. "Let's go, everyone! Lulu can't be far away."

Sir Auron, however, stepped in front of Yuna with all the authority of a rockslide, barring her way with a frown. "Wait." The young Summoner was surely holding herself together by sheer force of will. Dealing with the Fayth always drained her immensely, and she had also performed a Sending this evening. His clipped words brooked no argument. "I'll find her. You should rest-- all of you. We tackle Mt. Gagazet in the morning."

"But, Sir Auron--" Yuna scowled, a stubborn hardness settling about her mouth and eyes that made the older Guardian chuckle.

"I suspect the chief danger is from Lulu herself. She was... very quiet... while you were inside negotiating with Yojimbo."

Rikku nodded. "Yeah, she did seem kinda grouchy. Of course, she's always grouchy."

"Oh." Yuna clearly would rather be tracking down her sharp-tempered friend herself, but after a moment she bit her lip and nodded. "I see. Get her to come back soon, if you can. Thank you, Sir Auron."

"And watch out for thunderbolts," Wakka muttered.

"Don't wait up for us." Sir Auron gave Kimahri's chest a solid thump as he passed, the silent signal between them when one was relieving the other during the night's watches. Then he strode off into the gathering darkness.

* * *

_Warning: While this story is mostly action/angst/adventure and character interaction, there are a few chapters that bump it to an M rating. One involves a nonconsensual sexual encounter, needed for the plot, that could be disturbing and upsetting.  
_


	2. Havoc for Two

The canyon was eerily quiet. There was just the faint rustling of the wind moaning across broken rock. Now and then there was the crunch of booted footsteps as a sentry passed. The Crusaders gripped their weapons warily when the big man approached, but drew themselves to attention and clenched their fists to their chests in a salute when they recognized him. Apparently they had opted to ignore the orders coming out of Bevelle to arrest the "traitors" on sight. Being excommunicated by some of the same church leaders who had tacitly supported their last operation must have opened their eyes to a few painful truths.

Auron smiled grimly. The Teachings of Yevon were coming apart at the seams. So much the better.

A quick circuit of the camp turned up no sign of the dark mage. Stepping out onto the canyon floor, Auron retraced the party's steps, making his way back towards the entrance to the gorge and the hidden gateway leading down into the the Cavern of the Stolen Fayth. A sentry patrolling that end of the canyon called out and hailed him. "Sir! Nothing to report--"

There was a muffled boom that shook the ground, and a patter of small stones and rocks rained down from the cliff beside them. The watchman's eyes widened and he reached for his sword.

Auron turned towards the yawning mouth of the cave sunk into the base of the lefthand cliff. "It came from down there," he observed. "Did a woman pass by here just now?"

"Sir?" The sentry shook his head. "Not that I've seen. Unless you mean the girl with Lady Yuna--"

Auron pushed past him brusquely and headed for the dark archway, sword braced across his shoulders.

Inside, it seemed less like a cave and more like a slot canyon, a narrow tortured scar of split stone biting deeply into the cliffs. Most of the tunnel was roofed over, but in places the stony vault had cracked open to reveal a dim slit of sky. Black spires rose up on great piers of rock. Here and there crystals embedded close to the surface made the rock face pulse with a strange green glow. Pyreflies danced past Auron with a familiarity that the stoic wanderer studiously ignored. Water more heard than seen was tinkling down from cracks in the broken walls. His footsteps echoed loudly in that narrow space.

There was another louder boom, and the walls on either side shook and groaned. The swordsman quickened his pace.

Sliding around a corner, he found his way blocked by a fresh rockfall forming a barrier higher than his head. A cloud of dust was still rising from the rubble, obscuring the faint light from the glowing walls. Through gaps in the uneven barricade, he could see a few pyreflies spiralling upwards and melting away.

Auron set his hand against the stones and started climbing. Rocks shifted dangerously underfoot as he stepped from foothold to foothold, deftly scaling the wall. Just before clearing the top, he crouched down, calling out, "Hold." There was a grinding sound beneath his knees, and he leapt free just as the last vestiges of a crushed Epaaj winked out of existence at the foot of the slide. The rocks let loose again, a few more boulders tumbling down with a shuddering crash.

Beyond the rubble, the tunnel widened slightly and ended in an oval-shaped amphitheater open to the sky. There had been grass here, but it was scorched. A few flames were flickering out on the spidery husk of a dead tree against the far wall. Lulu stood beneath the blackened branches, faintly illumined by the sphere of fire burning fiercely in her palm. He caught a glimpse of her pale face turned towards him, eyes narrowed and wary. Then she swung away from him, pivoting smoothly on one heel and turning back to face the tree and surrounding rock-face. Straight-backed, motionless, black braids falling down her back, she seemed to fit this bleak and shadowed landscape: confined, secretive, a maze of pinnacles and black stone one could get lost in, yet punctuated here and there by a hidden gleam of glowing stone, or a spray of white blossoms clinging stubbornly to life in the most forbidding places.

Sinuous shadows were trickling down the steep rock face, and it was not merely water seeping down from above. Firelight glinted off skeletal joints, bladed claws.

"I hope I'm not intruding," Auron said, unsheathing his sword and striding towards her.

"On the contrary." Her crimson eyes were fixed on the ominous shadows inching stealthily closer. "You're late." She drew her hand back slowly, cupping the flames close to her body, taking slow, even breaths. The alien shapes detached themselves from the broken rock, blending in with the treebranches that served as camouflage. Two of the scorpion-like creatures bunched together as they squeezed past a narrow neck between outthrust piers of rock. Lulu opened her hand. Fire exploded outwards from her fingers, lighting up every stone and blade of grass in the narrow cul-de-sac. The fiends were smashed back against the rocky wall by the impact. There was a brief halt in their advance. Then they resumed their descent, a foul stench emanating from their scorched shells.

The pair she had just singed swung to the ground with a soft rattle of limbs and paused on either side of the dead tree. Their front legs probed the air before them as if sizing up morsels of food. Mage and swordsman exchanged quick glances.

"Allow me," Auron grunted, and flung himself forward, closing the gap between Guardians and fiends in three ground-eating strides. His left arm came free from his coat, palm outstretched, as he swung the black blade around in a glancing blow across the legs of the right-hand creature, striking blue sparks. Then, as the monsters whirled to slash at him, he brought the blade up and blocked the other's claws as they came slicing down. Chiton screeched against metal with another flash of blue.

Lulu raised her arm smoothly and let fly another burst of fire at the first one Auron had attacked. This time, the flame seemed to burrow into her target. Its legs and jointed skeleton glowed redly like a brand of iron in a forge's hearth, then dissolved into pyreflies. The swordsman pivoted away to give her room as she blasted the second one into the ground. He spun back and dispatched it with two efficient snapping strikes. Ghost-lights wafted up around his blade as the husk of the creature collapsed and faded at his feet.

"Thank you," she murmured. "I do so enjoy it when someone peels the fruit for me."

"Several of these look ripe," Auron warned, dropping back beside her as four more tumbled down and lurched towards them. "Keep back." He planted his sword in the earth for a moment and stooped over it, face clenched in concentration. Powerful shoulders tensed. The ground itself seemed to tremor as he collected himself for the kill.

Lulu waited at his shoulder, breathing deeply and gathering a sphere of energy into her hands. Her lips curled into an appreciative smile as a serious of depth charges burst from the tortured earth, consuming the spiny carcasses of the creatures in furious explosions of rock and fire. A fine layer of ash and dirt rained down on them, as pyreflies spiraled away.

Their remaining enemies pushed through the dwindling smoke with mindless tenacity. Dagger-like claws flashed as the predators hit the ground and parted in two waves. They slithered to both sides of the dead tree and propelled themselves off the rocks with leaping springs, coming down right on top of the two Guardians. Lulu flung her hands over her face at the last second, letting the ball of lightning explode directly overhead, deflecting the the Epaaj that might otherwise have crushed her. Auron suddenly burst into motion at her side, whirling, striking, surrounding her in a web of steel as the sparks from her spell rained down on them. The mage twisted sideways as one of the creatures slipped past his guard and took a swipe at her. She gritted her teeth as a flailing claw sliced through the stiff fabric of her sleeve. Auron turned back and sheared through its talons. Lulu followed up with another blast of fire, glaring as the creature melted away.

The swarm came faster now, pouring down from the rockface on all sides. Auron's economy of movement was a deadly poetry. He carved and struck and whirled, cracking shells, breaking chinks in their armor, spraying bloody trails of black ichor as he held them at bay. Lulu followed in his wake, raining down lightning and flame. Sometimes she varied her magics with an violent burst of water to quench the ground when Auron's boots started smoking from the heat. They stood in the midst of a whirlpool of deadly claws and flailing limbs, the swordsman orbiting the mage in a weaving dance. Lulu anchored herself at the very center of the maelstrom, face set and flat with concentration as she struggled to follow his every move with the hammer-blows of her dark sorcery. Pyreflies eddied and swirled upwards like sparks cast from a burning log.

Lulu was beginning to feel faint, dizzy, euphoric. Auron's powerful swings and calculated strikes were thrilling to watch in such close quarters. He never stopped moving, yet every few seconds the flash of her fierce magic captured an after-image of his hurtling shape, illuminated by fire or lightning's painful clarity. It was like the face of the sun caught fleetingly by a swordblade. Her heart was soaring, even as sweat began to pour down her face. She did not consciously feel the pain singing in her veins, she only knew that fire was within her now as well as outside. A last wild explosion threw Auron to his knees-- too close, dangerously careless of her-- and she found herself crumpled on the ground, breathing heavily. Dazedly she watched Sir Auron run at the rockface and twist, his momentum carrying him up several feet into the last of their foes. His sword drove straight through its head, and he and the Epaaj fell together with a crash that made her stomach clench. The fiend hit the ground hard and exploded in a puff of pyreflies. Auron picked himself up stiffly and leaned on his sword.

Silence fell. They were alone once more in the closed-in cavern, with the last flames of her anger dancing across what was left of the withered tree.

Sir Auron turned in a slow circle, scanning the shadows above to make certain there were no other dangers lurking, then glared down at her. "I thought you had more sense," he said irritably. "Yuna would be none too pleased to find herself short a Guardian."

She smiled at the scolding. "You are right, of course. I had hoped you would--" she took a sharp breath-- "join me. But I did not expect so many."

"I expect such stupidity from Tidus." He moved to her side and stooped, taking her forearm gently in his hands. "Hm." He reached into his coat and pulled out a small flask, one of the Al Bhed remedies, removing the stopper with his teeth and dripping it liberally over the angry-looking slash. The venom faded when its owner expired, but it usually took several minutes for the effects to clear.

Lulu propped her forehead against his shoulder, unable to keep a smile from her lips. The throbbing began to subside and the sides of the cliff stopped wavering and leaning precariously towards them. Laying his sword across his knees, Auron slipped a arm around her and waited stoically, gazing into the darkness.

Presently she reached up to sweep back the unruly lock of hair that was forever tumbling down between his eyes. "Please tell me you enjoyed yourself, at least a little."

"Hmph." His collar masked the lower half of his face, but she knew a smile when she heard it.

The silence after a battle was always more profound than the one before it. For once, Auron did not seem to be in a hurry to move on, and Lulu was grateful for the respite. Finally she stirred and stretched her torn arm experimentally. The wound smarted, but the Al Bhed concoction had done its work: the bleeding had stopped.

He glanced down and sideways at her with his good eye. "Better?"

"Mm." She sat up and looked around, face composed and calm, as if they had merely been watching the sunset over a still lake. "I needed that."

He made one of those noncommittal grunts. "Apparently so." Almost absently, his gloved hand caressed her side. The familiar pleasant tingle of his touch sank through the fabric.

Lulu was disinclined to move or speak. In fact, she was only half aware of him just now, despite the comfortable familiarity that had settled between them. Her attention had returned to the stony cliff-face before them, and she glanced off to the left to make certain that the narrow crack leading farther into the labyrinthine tunnels had not been blocked.

Sir Auron straightened and regarded her with a wary sidelong look. "That was a difficult Sending today."

The mage frowned and stirred from her reverie. "For me or for you?"

"Both."

That small concession drew a flicker of a smile from the sorceress. "I thought you told me that you were skilled at dodging," she admonished. "As for me: I'm fine. I'm pleased that we were able to Send Lady Ginnem before she became something she would not have wished to be."

Th warrior's face tensed, and he made no reply. Not that his silence was unusual.

"Auron?" she pressed gently.

He shook his head, gaze averted and grim. "Glad we could help."

With those words, an invisible wall tumbled into place between them as solid as the rockslide covering the entrance to the rocky cloister. Lulu did not mind. She enjoyed the shared silence between them, even when it veiled secrets. Tonight, however, she had one more secret than usual to worry about.

Auron caught her quite by surprise when he set a hand under her chin, turned her face towards him, and hammered home a fiery kiss.

Still slightly light-headed from the poison, Lulu felt her cheeks flushing as Auron dove forcefully into her mouth. She felt she was drowning. It was glorious, it was intoxicating, it was...

_just a little too like those greedy-eyed gentlemen who spoke to her breasts and not to her. _

Fighting for air, Lulu casually placed her palm against the broad metal blade propped over his thighs and applied a subtle pressure. Sparks skittered down and through the metal surface. Auron jerked and yanked away from her, staring at her in perplexed irritation.

"You are trouble," she murmured flatly, though the twinkle in her eye belied her severe tone. "But so am I. Please remember that."

Auron was seldom ruffled for more than a moment. Collecting himself, he broke into a low chuckle, reached down and laced his gloved sword-hand with hers. "It would be hard to forget, Lulu."

"Good." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

The swordsman jerked his chin towards the rockslide behind them. "So. Are you ready to head back?"

Lulu frowned. "As a matter of fact," she said quietly, "I... oh, this is difficult for me to ask."

He exhaled. "What's wrong?"

"The Cavern of the Stolen Fayth," She paused, letting those words sink in, and then went on. "Remember, this is as far as I've ever gone. Wakka says I'm stronger, and I know it is so, and yet: my knowledge of our road ends here. Traveling with five other Guardians, I have not had much of a chance to test myself. It is hard to know for certain whether I will have the power to protect Yuna from what lies ahead."

"Hm." He looked at her skeptically. "So this little demonstration was for yourself?"

Lulu nodded. "You told me to remember that Yuna is not Lady Ginnem. But I am still myself. Can I protect this Summoner better?"

He shrugged. "In the end, there is no way to know before we reach Sin. Dwelling on doubt is pointless. You know that."

"I do." Lulu met his gaze squarely. Despite her words, her usual reserved air of self-sufficiency scarcely seemed impaired. She merely looked troubled.

The older Guardian folded his arms across his chest, watching her. "You're not telling me everything."

An odd little smile flickered across her face and faded quickly: amusement, sadness, frustration. "Correct."

"Fine." He smirked, hefted the heavy blade across his shoulders, and offered her a hand up. "Let's get this over with."


	3. No Going Back

Sir Auron maintained a vigilant watch behind them as they penetrated deeper into the maze of tunnels, mindful of the dangers concealed by the bleak ramparts of twisted stone. Lulu led the way, gliding silently before him, on the lookout for any sound or movement in the passage ahead. They could not afford mistakes. Without Yuna's magic, they had to rely on their limited supply of potions and remedies. In the turmoil of combat, there were few opportunities to pause and tend a stricken comrade. Lulu was painfully aware of the problem from her last ill-fated foray into these catecombs.

At least for a while, their luck held. They met with nothing more sinister than the booby-trapped urns left behind by sadistic thieves after whom the cavern was named. Perhaps the strange artifacts had been placed there to ensnare the greedy. Auron and Lulu were wise enough to give them a wide berth.

"Sir Auron," Lulu murmured, warily circling an urn that seemed to quiver and twitch as they crept past.

"Hm?"

"One thing puzzles me. You disapprove of anything that distracts us from Yuna's pilgrimage. Why, then, are you going along with this?"

The older Guardian chuckled as they entered yet another claustrophobic corridor. His gruff voice echoed off the walls. "You were expecting that I would. Why are you surprised?"

The mage halted abruptly and raised her hand in warning. Auron turned sideways and pressed into a hollow alcove as well as he might. Lulu glided silently to the wall and stood still, mimicking one of the dark pillars of stone whose surface was punctuated by flecks of gleaming crystal. They waited. Pyreflies and wisps of violet smoke seeping out of cracks in the walls billowed past. At last, a looming bluish-white figure floated across the open passageway ahead in eerie silence. Lulu chafed at having to let the fiend pass by unmolested, but she knew better than to seek out more trouble than necessary. It drifted out of sight, and they waited a little longer before moving on, hurrying across the intersection. Lulu did not risk breaking the silence again until they had put a few twists and turns between themselves and the crossing where they had spotted the ghost.

"Not surprised," she replied. "Puzzled. You permitted Yuna's dangerous game with Seymour, knowing that she was going astray. Several times now, you have counseled us against unnecessary diversions, then played along." The mage could not quite mask the twinkle in her eye. Sobering, she added, "I am grateful, but curious."

Auron shrugged. "Yuna had her reasons. I assume you have yours."

The mage smiled wanly. "We'll see if I fare any better."

Conversation between them ceased abruptly. Ahead, the drip of water and the hissing of the fumaroles in the walls grew fainter, suggesting that the corridor was about to open into another wide gallery. Those faint sounds almost masked a muffled scrabbling noise. Both Guardians recognized the telltale tap of claws at the same moment. Exchanging glances, the mage and swordsman drew shoulder to shoulder, prepared to turn and fight back to back if necessary. Sir Auron was taking no chances. He made a quick gesture with his left hand. The wafting pyreflies slowed their dreamy spirals and hovered in place like eager blitzball payers waiting for a bout to begin. Sounds grew sluggish. Puffs of purple vapor paused and hung nearly motionless.

Auron raised an eyebrow. Lulu collected herself and nodded curtly. Together they edged their way around the corner.

Instantly a trio of translucent, pale lizards of considerable size came swarming out of crevices and hurtled towards them. Despite forewarning, Lulu was barely able to unleash a volley before the reptiles darted in range of Auron's swing. "Don't let them bite you!" she snapped as a curtain of ice draped across one of the fiends and shattered.

"Mind yourself," Auron shot back. The slippery lizards were alarmingly swift, weaving in and out, leaping and striking, their glossy fish-like scales dazzling and bewildering. Even with the magical boost of speed from _hastega_, the swordsman was not fast enough to catch them. There was no way for the heavyset warrior to fend the creatures off of Lulu save by planting himself in front of her as a living barrier. This he did, to her dismay, but there was no time to argue. She had her own work to worry about. Ice erupted from the stony floor and seized claws, fins, and twisting necks in its chill talons. The lizards were speedy enough to evade even spells, and kept dodging the full brunt of her magic. This time, Sir Auron could not weaken their resistance for her. Again and again he sliced, forming a pendulum of deadly steel around them, but his sword kept finding empty space where a foe had been a moment before.

Everything was happening in a blur. Lulu's first victim was writhing on its side, bleeding away into ghost-lights. The other two were attacking furiously. One barreled past Auron's guard and wrapped itself around the mage with talons digging into her thighs and shoulders, trying to get its jaws around her throat. She twisted, struggled, and fought back with a cry, or tried to. Numbing heaviness had seized her lungs and her voice, and she could not gasp out a word. Suddenly Auron's black sword dropped like a thunderbolt right before her eyes, shearing through all four of the creature's legs at the elbows, cutting it away from her and slaying it in one deadly stroke. _Thank you_, she mouthed. Once freed, Lulu hastily fished out one of the small precious items tucked into the pockets inside her sleeve and crushed a silver pellet between her teeth.

Recovering her voice, she had to bite back a scream. Auron had been caught and paralyzed in the act of turning back to meet the last of their foes. Trapped in mid-swing, he was helpless to strike at the fiend that had bitten him. The vile lizard was worrying at him like a gnawing dog, claws scrambling for purchase as it squirmed and coiled around his frozen body. Gritting her teeth, Lulu drew her hands together and lashed out with bursts of bitter cold. Battered by her spells, the creature finally dropped twitching to the stone floor and dissolved into nothingness.

Lulu reached out and touched Auron's cheek. It was hard as stone. She longed to use one of their precious remedies, but most of these creatures' toxins did not long outlast them. "You'll be all right in a moment," she reassured him, speaking to herself as much as to him. She waited tensely, scanning the tunnel for any other unwanted company. It was probably only a handful of seconds before the spell let go, but the lonely moment before Auron's face loosened into a grimace and he lowered his sword seemed to drag forever.

"I hate those things," the mage muttered vehemently.

A hint of old nightmares must have been showing in Lulu's haunted expression, for Auron took one look at her and wordlessly put his arms around her. She embraced him fiercely, protectively, barely noticing the stinging scrapes and gashes on her arms and legs.

"Are you sure that you want to go on?" he asked gruffly.

-

_"Please. Lady Ginnem, I do not wish to say this, but-" _

_"Don't tell me that my little spitfire is growing cold feet! We've come this far, my dear. Yojimbo's chamber cannot be much farther. He will guard us on the return journey." _

_Ginnem's eyes were brave and bold and kind, and there was a fearless calm about her that Lulu always strove to emulate, concealing her sharp temper. Other adults had given little encouragement to the moody, reclusive youngster, an anomaly in a laid-back friendly backwater community like Besaid. Ordinary folk had started avoiding her when she began to manifest her useful yet dangerous talent. Ginnem, however, had been a loner herself, and said that Lulu reminded her of her old Temple in Djose: forbidding on the outside, full of spark and bright fire within. _

_Oh, but if Lulu had adored Ginnem less, and trusted her own instincts more, perhaps she might not have been so desperately eager to prove herself worthy of her idol's faith in her. _

_"All right. Lead on, my lady. I can't wait to see this legendary hero in person!"_

-

"I must," Lulu replied firmly. She disentangled herself from Auron's embrace. "Come."

"Not until we fix this." Auron touched her shoulder just above the welling cuts left by the lizard's claws. Auron retrieved another healing salve from his belt and wiped down her wounds with practiced efficiency, making her flinch as the burning liquid seeped into the fresh gashes. He used the remainder to treat the bite on his shoulder. "I take it that you faced them before?" he asked grimly.

Lulu lowered her gaze, voice going flat. "I could not move a muscle. They tore Lady Ginnem to pieces before my eyes."

"You have to put that behind you, Lulu." Auron slipped a finger under her chin and tipped her face towards his, holding her eyes with compassion but not pity. "We fight to avenge the fallen. But if we let those memories distract us, they will hamper our judgement, possibly fatally. Can you keep yourself focused on the present?"

The sorceress frowned. Auron, of all people, understood what he was asking her to forget. "I think so."

He weighed her answer mutely, measuring the stubborn set of her jaw with a fingertip's caress. Then he drew her into a brief, tender kiss that warmed her far better than any number of salves or potions.

"That makes it easier," she breathed when he released her.

Auron grunted. "It is also another distraction," he pointed out, stepping back and inspecting her for any injuries he had missed- or perhaps for reasons.

"Maybe you should walk in front of me, then," Lulu teased.

Shaking his head, the warrior hefted his sword and dropped a few paces behind her, a roguish glint in his eye. "I'll manage."


	4. Costly Secrets

The Cavern of the Stolen Fayth was far more perilous and long than Lulu remembered. She had been too naive the first time to know how great were the risks they ran. Travelling with Yuna and five Guardians had made for a deceptively easy journey, barely more dangerous than a forest stroll in Besaid. This time, every tunnel was another story, every skirmish another near brush with death. Yet apart from their harrowing run-in with the stone-lizards, Lulu could not remember the last time she had basked in the thrill of battle quite so much. Just for a change, there was no Summoner whose life depended on her, no friends to fret over, no clueless newcomer in need of coaching. Sir Auron's expertise was gratifying, and his skills complemented her own almost exactly. Wakka, of course, had balanced out her magics on their last pilgrimage together, but he had been inexperienced and preoccupied, and asked almost as many questions as Tidus. She found the swordsman's silence restful.

Sir Auron did not even ask where they were headed. He had probably guessed at the start. The warrior kept pace with her without a single word spoken between them. Their only conversation consisted of combat, an unrehearsed dance of strikes and mutual defense that was almost as satisfying as their more intimate liasons. Whenever they came face to face with one of the cavern's hulking fire-breathers, Lulu could not help but savor the spectacle of the warrior charging forward like a wave breaking on the beach and hewing through the huge monster's neck with one inexorable swing. She felt a thrum of quiet satisfaction when Auron leaned on his sword to watch her dispatch a Dark Element with one blistering burst. Best of all was when they worked in tandem, blade and magic weaving a two-pronged attack against anything unlucky enough to cross their path.

Step by step they were nearing their goal. Lulu was still putting off awkward explanations. Auron was making it easier for her, but she hated having to keep him in the dark. Finally, as they crossed the last intersection before their destination, Lulu glanced back at him. "There's one thing I want you to understand," she whispered. "I urged Yuna to come here for her sake, to win her one more Aeon. Had she preferred the quickest route, I would have returned alone after the pilgrimage."

"In that case," Auron replied drily, "It's a good thing Yuna was agreeable. Throwing one's life away after victory is worse than foolish."

The mage might have protested his unflattering assessment of her chances, but there was a hint of self-deprecation in his tone that roused her suspicions. Torn between curiosity, sympathy, and impotent frustration at his fate, Lulu did not press him further. Instead, she changed the subject. "I would have preferred not to involve you either."

He smiled faintly. "I know. But I'd rather you bent your pride and asked for my help, than for us to find you dead in the morning." He shook his head. "I gather that you had not heard much about this place, when you were here before. One Summoner and one Guardian have little hope of passing through."

Lulu sighed. "So we discovered." There was another pause while they edged past a huge, rusted hulk whose metal surfaces gleamed dimly in the light of the pyreflies. One could never be too sure whether these old abandoned machina had been decommissioned. "Did Lord Braska seek out Yojimbo?"

"Yes." The swordsman grimaced. "But we did not summon him often."

The mage stepped to one side, the signal for Auron to squeeze past her. He plunged forward and dropped his sword through a Thorn barring their path. "No wonder," she breathed, sealing the blow with a firestrike. "I'm surprised Braska needed any Aeons, between the two of you."

"Hardly. It was more a matter of being strapped for cash, after exhausting our funds early on paying for that Shoopuf." Auron straightened and waited for her to take point again. "Did Lady Ginnem ever summon him?"

"Yojimbo? Only once," Lulu answered bleakly.

-

_Lulu had thought the hair-raising journey to Yojimbo's inner sanctum would be the worst part of the adventure, but she found it was just as bad to be left at the entryway while her Summoner faced the unseen spirit alone. Against her better judgment, the young Guardian found herself inching partway down the tunnel, chafing her cold hands and straining her ears to hear what might be happening in the chamber beyond. _

_She need not have bothered. Lady Ginnem's ringing voice reverberated clearly back through the stony passageway, passionate and stern. "What is there to negotiate? You are a Fayth! You gave your life to save Spira! What use have you for gold?" _

_"None whatsoever." Lulu's scalp prickled. She had never heard a Fayth speak before. Even accounting for echoes, there was no doubt that the alien, uncanny voice came from nothing this side of the Farplane. "How much are you willing to pay for everlasting glory, Summoner? Your life? Your Guardian's life? The stakes are high. I do not waste time with just any beggar who stumbles upon my doorstep." _

_"High indeed: all Spira is waiting while we bandy words! You must help me and my Guardian defeat Sin. I, Summoner Ginnem of Djose, command you!" _

_The long cold laugh echoing up the tunnel set Lulu's teeth on edge. Foreboding crawled down her skin like bitter rain. _

_"So be it," said the strange voice. "Your life will be the cost." _

_"That I knew." _

_In her mind's eye, Lulu could see the stubborn serenity in her Summoner's face, and wanted to howl a protest. She did not have long to ponder the exchange she had overheard before the older woman's clipped, hurried footsteps were returning up the passageway. The headstrong young Guardian expected to be berated for eavesdropping, but Ginnem swept past her without even noticing the slip of a girl pressed against a niche in the wall. Lulu hurried after. _

_Later, Lulu had often wondered whether the Fayth had put the fiends on their scent to collect his fee._

Auron grunted. "So you did make it to Yojimbo's sanctuary first, then," he muttered.

-

Lulu glanced over her shoulder, mouth pressed in a thin line. "Exactly."

She said nothing more to him until the last tunnel was threaded and they stood once more at the end of a wide, oval-shaped chamber, empty save for a few pyreflies. Lulu's amber eyes swept across the barren floor, noting a few scorch marks from their recent battle and remembering another that was indelibly seared in her memory. There was no marker, no sign to honor a Summoner's passing. For that matter, there was almost nothing to hint at the sleeping power nestled at the heart of this cavern like a vigilant spider. Even the Hymn of the Fayth, hastily incised in an arc over the dark, round opening on the far wall, was so crudely carved that it was easy to miss.

Head held high, the sorceress stalked towards the forbidding archway. Sir Auron subtly lengthened his stride to fall into step beside her.

"Master Yojimbo," Lulu called out, bowing in prayer before the portal. "We seek an audience."

"So I see," boomed a hollow voice from the depths. Suddenly, framed against the darkness of the inner cave, there was a luminous figure taller than a man, garbed in the stark red and blue of an old Crusader's uniform. A steel mask crafted to mimic the head of a bird of prey hid the face from view. Inhuman eyes gleamed behind it. "I was beginning to wonder whether I should send my Aeon to collect your debt."

Auron shot a wry glance at his companion, but he seemed less than surprised. "I assume there is a reason why you did not settle this when we were here earlier?"

"Yes," Lulu said curtly.

-

_The spell gripping her limbs in stony shackles suddenly let go, and Lulu fell to her knees as pyreflies gently wafted away. Paralyzed and trapped in her own body, she had not been able to turn her head and see what had finished off her assailants. She had only a fleeting glimpse of one of the lizards falling under a hail of ghostly daggers. _

_The carnage the fiends had wrought of Ginnem's body was spread from wall to wall. Lulu thought she had seen gruesome deaths before, when her family and friends had been strewn across the beaches of Besaid like broken driftwood. Nothing had prepared her for this. The furious shriek wrenched from her lungs was less than human. Wrapping her arms around herself, she wept silently and rocked until there were no tears or fire left inside. Only then did she realize that a strange Aeon was looming over her, faceless, its body hidden by an elaborate costume whose cheerful colors were almost macabre under the circumstances. Nearby stood a massive dog with its tongue hanging out, blood on its teeth, burning coals for eyes. Its tail wagged a slow drum-beat against the blood-soaked ground. _

_"Why?" she whispered. "Why come too late? Are we just toys to you?" _

_"Her life: that was the only price your Summoner was willing to pay." Yojimbo's sibilant voice echoed behind her. "I obliged. You should thank her." _

_Numbly Lulu reached down, touching the blood with white fingers. _

_"However, you present me with a quandary. The debt was hers, not yours. I suppose I owe you a way out." _

_Lulu gazed towards the dark tunnel leading towards the surface, face set and cold. "I hardly need your assistance for that, sir." _

_The spirit laughed mockingly. "A pity. I thought I sensed a spark of strength in you. Nevermind. Go, then. There's a fiend lurking around the next bend that will make short work of you." _

_Turning her back on the unsettling Aeon and its hound, Lulu came face to face with Yojimbo himself. "What do you want?" she demanded, recoiling as the spirit's insubstantial image brushed against and through her. _

_Yojimbo's masked head shifted to and fro like a raptor scanning the tall grasses of the Calm Lands for prey. "Pathetic," he pronounced at length. "You carry nothing of value. Well, I do not normally render service in advance, but I'm feeling generous. Don't tell anyone, mind: it's bad for business." He gave another eerie laugh. "I'll see you again someday, Guardian. You can pay me then." _

-

Someday had finally come due. The mage faced the airy image of the Fayth with a hint of trepidation. "I am here now."

Yojimbo's eyes flicked towards Auron's solid figure beside her. "As is another."

"I have not told him our business," she said firmly. "If you prefer, I shall conduct negotiations with you alone." She nodded towards the tunnel at the spirit's back.

Sir Auron rumbled beside her. "I think not."

Yojimbo chuckled, circling them slowly. "No, he may stay. It is not often the great Yojimbo gets to meet another hero, especially an Unsent. Sir Auron, isn't it? I hope they haven't forgotten you already." His attention returned to Lulu. "Shall we get down to business, girl? Name your price."

With a slight bow, the mage drew out a small sphere of jet-black crystal. Within its smokey depths, fire and lightning throbbed angrily, casting out tiny chains of sparks that skipped harmlessly across her outstretched palm. "This seemed appropriate. A black magic sphere. Very rare."

"Hm." The spirit's image flickered and steadied. "Is that all?"

"And you thought Rikku was the thief," the mage muttered under her breath. "I'm sorry, Auron."

The swordsman merely folded his arms, watching her impassively.

"No, that is not all." Drawing a shimmering velvet pouch out of her bodice, the mage hefted it in both hands as if the small bundle was strangely heavy. "We found this on the body of a Guado Maester. I have not come across one before, but I believe it may be a tetra elemental."

The Fayth threw back his head and laughed. "Now that's an uncommon souvenir! Your first Summoner might have fared better, had you handled the bargaining for her."

Lulu exhaled and set the bag down on a niche in the entryway, eyeing it with regret. "Very well."

"Not so fast." Pale eyes glittered behind the uncanny mask. "As I warned you, it is not my habit to render services in advance. You have had three years to ponder your good fortune and my magnanimity. I expect to be paid with interest."

Sir Auron interrupted flatly. "If I understand the nature of the bargain, then you value this woman's life more highly than all the gold in Bevelle. That is no mere bauble."

"Ah, Sir Auron," Yojimbo thrust a ghostly finger towards him. "You disappoint me! Do you imagine I have the slightest interest in the lifeless offerings that people bring me? No, but my suppliants will show proper respect! Yojimbo is no pawn to be summoned and put away and forgotten like a handkerchief. If others would use my sacrifice for their own ends, then they should be willing to sacrifice too."

Sir Auron levelled a pointed look at the Fayth.

"What would you have of me, then?" Lulu asked coolly. "I travel light. I brought little else with me."

"You brought him."

Lulu stiffened. Eyes narrowed, she watched the ghostly figure waft towards Sir Auron. If Yojimbo was looking for some token of respect from the legendary hero, he was disappointed. The stoic swordsman held his ground, barely a flicker in his wooden expression when the specter came to hover inches before his face.

Yojimbo chuckled. "They say the Unsent envy the living-- but not you, I think." The masked figure leaned close and whispered into Auron's ear with all the familiarity of a trusted confidant or lover. "Tell me, hero, how does it feel to fuck warm flesh and blood? You've got a pretty little cunt there to spread her legs for you."

Auron's gloved hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, but that was all. Lulu gasped and drew herself to her full height, red-faced and seething.

"That is my price," Yojimbo stated diffidently.

-

* * *

_A/N: The following three chapters contain some graphic and disturbing material that definitely tips this story into an M rating. If unpleasant sexual situations are not your thing, please wait until chapter 8, where the story will get back on track and continue... for another 15 chapters at this rate. ;)_


	5. Determination

Auron pivoted his hands, and the blade came flashing upwards. Scowling, he took one step in front of the mage. Fuming at his shoulder, Lulu barely managed to bite back a snarling retort that might well have ended any chance of bargaining her way out of this.

"I see that she has her own Guardian," Yojimbo laughed. The ghostly specter drifted nonchalantly through Auron's solid form, looming over the woman who held her ground with a venomous glare. "No, you stupid fools! This--" the Fayth's hand passed through Lulu's hair and ear as she jerked away-- "would hardly be worth the effort. Oh, yes, _I_ envy the living. Nowadays, the only living souls I see are self-centered Summoners rushing to their deaths, haggling with me over the cost of salvation. Where are the hymns, the praise-songs to my glory, the ceremonies and the feast-days, the shy nuns and scheming Maesters and fornicating priests? All my diversions gone, since I was walled up in this Yevon-forsaken wilderness! No, by all means, enjoy your sick dalliance with death, girl. Do it here. Right now. I'll watch."

"Absolutely not!" Lulu snapped, her cheeks nearly the same hue as her eyes. "You have no right to ask Sir Auron--"

"Lulu," Auron interrupted, a rumble of amusement creeping into his voice as he turned towards her. "It is hardly a sacrifice for me."

The sorceress stared at him. "You can't be serious."

The grizzled swordsman regarded her levelly through the ghostly form of the Fayth hovering between them. "Yuna needs six Guardians in the morning. Have you a better idea?"

Lulu wished she knew for certain whether Auron's opaque expression was masking concern, teasing, or mere indifference. Nevertheless, she could not quibble with his pragmatism. Her own words to Tidus came back to jeer at her: _All you need is determination. If you have that, you don't need love._ Apparently fate meant to make her test that proposition.

"It's your call," Auron said gently.

Yojimbo hung motionless before her, his pitiless gaze burrowing into her like maggots. The tick, tick, tick of dripping water striking wet stone echoed loudly somewhere in the dim chamber, almost as loudly as her own heartbeat drumming in her ears. She had the uncanny sensation that the dead warriors were comparing notes about her through some unspoken communion, gloating over her warm, pliant flesh. But no. That was fear's sly whispering, and she would never yield to its craven counsel. Auron deserved better of her.

"Very well," she replied coolly. "If Sir Auron is willing, I accept."

Yojimbo let out a ringing bark of laughter. "You needn't pretend that it's such a hardship, girl. The scent of the Farplane is all over you."

Lulu gave the Fayth a withering look. "You know, there is a difference between a hero and one who has merely fallen. Now. Out of our way." As if brushing a curtain aside, she waved a hand through the spectral shape that had insinuated itself between them.

Yojimbo sniffed derisively and withdrew to the open doorway to observe.

Lulu stood with her arms at her sides, hands clenched, head bowed. At least Auron's solid figure was between her and that hollow mask's eerie scrutiny. Nevertheless, she felt naked and exposed, and they had not even begun. Sir Auron, however, seemed unfazed. Self-collected as ever, he was watching her with detached patience and just a hint of smugness tugging at the corners of his mouth. Lulu had a sudden urge to shake him. How could he be so calm? Was he actually enjoying this?

Yet his actions were more than considerate. When she hesitated, Sir Auron removed his gauntlet and tucked it into his belt, then took one of her nerveless hands in his own and lifted it in a curiously formal gesture. The sorceress flinched. Tonight the shimmering jolt of his touch seemed alien, unsettling. Bringing it to his lips, Auron brushed his mouth lightly against her wrist, holding her eyes with a riveting gaze. There he deliberately paused. A sudden nameless relief flooded through her. The mage straightened and raised her chin, acknowledging his courtly gesture with a slight nod. Auron waited for that signal before he began to scale her forearm with a ladder of exquisite kisses, still holding her eyes with fierce intimacy. Lulu was torn between basking in the unexpected thrill of having a lover look at her that way again, or smacking him soundly for his presumption.

When he reached her elbow, Sir Auron pressed her hand to his lips for another courtly kiss. Then he jerked his chin towards the side of the cavern, where tumbled rocks might provide at least a measure more dignity than the cold stone floor, not to mention fewer sickening memories. "There?"

Lulu allowed herself to be led towards a shelflike stone spur jutting from the wall. _Sacrificial altar_, she thought bitterly, imagining herself spread-eagled across it with Auron fucking her while Yojimbo hovered above them providing leering commentary. Yet there was nothing coarse in Sir Auron's manner. He relinquished her hand, removed his coat ceremonially, folded it in half and draped it over the rock. Then he settled his hands gently around her waist and hoisted her onto the ledge. Thus elevated, Lulu felt as if she were seated on a throne. With all the formality of a Summoner approaching a Fayth's inner sanctum, Auron knelt to gather one of her feet in his hands, unlaced her boot, eased it from her foot with a caress, and repeated the same chivalrous homage as before. Warmth spread up her leg as the warrior kissed her toes, her instep, her ankle, and her shin, halting chastely when he reached the knee. Suddenly the sorceress realized that the smug gleam in his eye was not directed at her at all: this stately ritual was surely not what Yojimbo had in mind! Lulu smiled down at her would-be knight and splayed a hand delicately across the top of his head, stroking his hair. Was it her imagination, or did she hear an impatient snort from the gallery when Auron gently lifted her other foot and began anew?

His simple, emphatic kisses were so artfully placed that the warm tingle had spread right to the apex of her thighs by the time Auron lowered her calf and smoothed her heavy skirt over her legs. She held out her hands in a silent invitation. When he laced his fingers with hers, she raised him to his feet and drew him close, resting her forehead against his chin and folding their hands together over her breastbone. Her heart was hammering too fast. Now and then she glimpsed a flash of red, blue, or silver out of the corner of her eye as the master of the cavern circled restlessly. The sorceress chided herself. Why fear? A capricious Fayth was hardly a threat, even if he could manifest a formidable Aeon to back up his whims. She and Auron had defeated it once today already.

But Yojimbo had glided right through Sir Auron. Could her magics accomplish any more, if they were forced to add to their blasphemies by taking on a Fayth as well as a Maester?

"It's all right," the swordsman breathed at her ear.

"Hmph," she murmured, imitating him. "I don't think much of the accommodations." Lulu raised her eyes to find the stoic warrior gazing down at her with a faint, approving smile. She brought his fingers to her lips and kissed his callouses. His fingertips roved her cheekbones lightly. When she let go, he gathered her face between his palms and sank towards her, creaking against the leather straps of her skirt.

Their mouths met. Suddenly the unwelcome presence of a ghost did not seem to matter at all, and the part of her that was dimly aware of their frustrated voyeur only laughed. Auron's kisses were warm, gentler than was his habit. Even when he began to explore her mouth with his tongue, there was a certain playful chivalry about it. _I won't break_, she thought, but she was enjoying the sweet exchange too much to correct him.

Twining her fingers in his ponytail, Lulu lost herself in the terrain of his skin. Slipping free of his mouth to kiss her way down the scar on his right cheek, she noted abstractly that he was no longer quite the strikingly handsome young man he had been ten years ago. The deep lines around his mouth, the ruined eye, and the strain that usually knitted his brows had etched his face with the same unflinching starkness as the cliffs of Djose. Yet behind the mask of his glasses, she was beginning to see his younger face beneath his skin: or perhaps, to be more accurate, his true face, the sword hidden in its sheath.

As if reading her mind, Auron paused to remove his dark lenses. Prompted by some spark of whimsy, the swordsman perched them jauntily atop her hair and inspected the effect before shaking his head and setting them aside. Lulu found herself laughing for a few precious seconds. She slipped her arms around him to hug him close. However, cold metal armor was not particularly endearing. Her hands drifted towards the clasps along his left side, but she hesitated, darting an uneasy glance towards the open passageway by which they had entered.

Auron planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "I doubt Yojimbo will let anything else disturb us," he pointed out. The warrior turned slightly to help her unbuckle the dented cuirass and pull it from his sturdy frame. Then he drew her hand to his mouth again and kissed her knuckles, caressing the back of her wrist with his thumb.

Perhaps it was only Lulu's strained nerves groping for an anchor in distressing circumstances, but the profound gentleness in his manner tonight stirred her more deeply than heady lust. Gradually, Auron lowered her hand to his chest with the same unwavering gaze. Lulu's mouth went dry when she realized that her fingertips were resting directly over his heart.

"I might," grated Yojimbo irritably, drifting closer and coming to hover directly behind Auron's back, "if you two don't stop stalling."

The precious moment cracked like an eggshell trodden underfoot, and Lulu found herself digging her nails into Auron's skin with a frustrated sigh.

"No stamina, apparently," he deadpanned. "His loss." Wordlessly, he coaxed her fingers to relax, stroking the back of her hand.

Again she felt a stab of gratitude, although the glitter of Yojimbo's eyes fixed upon the warrior's shoulderblades was probably not a good sign. "Well, we had best not keep him waiting," she murmured, kissing the white half-moons printed into Auron's chest by her nails.

Mindful that the Unsent warrior had no such problem with stamina-- rather the reverse-- Lulu began to tickle her way down his chest with playful strokes and caresses, dancing lightly over the hollows of his muscles, skimming his firm stomach with her nails. His breathing roughened as she skated lower. Lulu licked her lips provocatively, smiling a little as the stern set of Auron's features melted in response. Skipping past his belt, she placed her palm lightly over his groin, stroking him through the fabric. He leaned forward, seizing her earlobe in his teeth and growling under his breath. She gasped and went still, suddenly awash with the overpowering nearness of him, the faint scent of his charmed body, the loose ponytail brushing against the side of her neck. She started to massage him more firmly through his trousers, recalling the luscious feel of velvety skin.

Auron slid one arm behind her back to steady her and began to fondle her through her gown, rolling his free hand over her in lingering circles that seemed to pay silent worship to each of her curves. Now and then her ripped sleeve would tug painfully at half-healed wounds, but Auron was exceedingly careful to skirt around her torn arm and shoulder. He shifted his attention from her ear to her neck, savoring her white flesh with delicate, nuzzling kisses until she tipped her head back, baring her throat to his ardent mouth. Warm, panting breaths beat deliciously against her exposed skin.

With a groan, Auron released the nipple he was squeezing and laid his hand across hers, bidding her halt for a moment. He unbuckled his belt and loosened the top of his pants. Pulling away slightly, he rubbed his thumb across her palm, raised Lulu's hand for another quiet kiss, then presented it to her with a caress, trailing his fingertips down the backside of her hand like rain gliding down window-glass. Smiling at the mute request, Lulu slipped her fingers into her mouth, licked the palm suggestively while he watched, and then reached down to ease her hand inside his pants. They both sighed out as her fingers settled around his silken flesh and began to pump him with quivering, authoritative strokes. Auron began to rock against her involuntarily, steered by her supple handling. He twined his fingers in her braids and held on, kissing her cheeks sporadically.

The raw, unguarded pleasure in the warrior's half-lidded gaze transformed his whole expression, burning away the aloof mask until his soul shone out like a phoenix's egg from its bed of coals and embers. Enthralled, Lulu found her free hand creeping up to brush against the side of his cheek and jaw. Auron mirrored the gesture, reaching up to cradle her face delicately between outspread fingers. Both were more accustomed to using their hands as devastating weapons. Now the sorceress thrilled at the magic of his heated skin rolling beneath her slick fingers, and the warrior smiled ferally when the barest caress of his fingers and her braids tickling against the nape of her neck elicited a musical moan. Yojimbo was utterly forgotten. They basked in the gleam of each other's eyes like circling birds of prey balanced effortlessly on rising currents of warm air.

"Very lovely," Yojimbo broke in suddenly, his voice floating down from directly overhead. "But it's past time to peel that pretty whore of yours out of her petticoats, don't you think?"

Lulu cringed. She was doubly shocked to witness Auron's composure cracking for an unguarded moment. The bliss in his face blazed into sudden fury like a Sin-storm blowing off the sea, transmuting the sunwashed beaches of Besaid into a whirlwind of sand and churning gray waves. The warrior's arm behind her back came up to encircle her bare shoulders in a living shield. Startled and touched to see Auron so riled on her behalf, Lulu pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. "I'll be all right." Ignoring the Fayth's papery chuckle, she mouthed, _I trust you._


	6. Stolen Fayth

Lulu could count on the fingers of one hand the people she trusted. Yuna. Kimahri. Wakka, despite his talent for thinking with his heart instead of his head. It had been a long time since she had let anyone else past the other end of a cool measuring gaze. Auron must have known this, or he would not have challenged her to drop her armor during their playful sport at the Al Bhed inn.

This time, it was no game.

_I trust you._

Auron's arm around her shoulders relaxed, although she could still feel the quiver of tension within his muscles, like static electricity building within her hands when the rigid control holding back her volatile temper began to fray. He said nothing, but she saw his face go still and quiet. Leaning forward he swept a feather-soft kiss against her lips that was more breath than touch. The anger in his eye faded, and she could almost see the shift behind his gaze as he dismissed Yojimbo from his thoughts with the forcefulness of a Sending and centered his attention on her. Auron seldom did anything by halves. A delicious shiver rolled down her spine as his moody brown eye locked upon her with all the impassioned focus of skilled lovemaking.

Meeting his kiss with sweet, minute nibbles, Lulu opened her hand inside his trousers. Auron swallowed a harsh groan in the back of his throat. Bringing her hand up, Lulu reached back to unlace the bodice sheathing her upper body, but found his sturdy arm in the way. She nudged his elbow lightly. The swordsman shifted his hand sideways, coming to a halt between her shoulderblades where her bodice left an enticing strip of skin exposed all the way down her back. He touched her hand with a simple question that was not simple at all. "May I?"

It would have been easier if she had not been able to see a hint of red just above his head. Almost she refused, buying herself time to choose the manner in which she uncovered herself to Yojimbo's greedy gaze. That, however, would let the capricious spirit dictate her actions, and rob Auron of the very gift she had just given him.

"You don't have to ask," Lulu whispered, reaching around to hook her fingers under the band of soft grey fur that fell across her bosom. As the warrior began to unlace her with deft, quick movements, she peeled the bodice down and away, baring her white skin to him, only for him. Sir Auron saw it out of the corner of his eye, but still held her gaze with profound intensity as he slowly disrobed her, drinking in the subtle tightening of her brows, the way her chin suddenly darted upward as a tremor passed through her, her full lips parting involuntarily. His breathing quickened, deepened; she knew it by the hot breaths beating against her even as the cave's chilled air began to raise goosebumps across her exposed skin.

"Ah, now that is a delicious sight," came the oily commentary from their ungracious host, but they barely heeded him this time, as one might ignore the scratchy inconvenience of sand during a passionate coupling on the beach.

Auron had reached the bottom of her corset, and together they eased it loose and set it aside. He carefully released the straps on her upper arms that kept her gown secured just off her shoulders. Mindful of the ragged red line along her forearm, he slipped the sleeves free one at a time. The mage hissed at the sting, but it was forgotten the next instant when Auron sank down in a slight kneebend to press his tongue into her navel. Slowly, luxuriously, he traced her body in a long, steady lick that ended at the hollow of her throat. She arched her back involuntarily, flowing with his movements. Whimpering, Lulu draped her arms around him and pulled him close, savoring the warm planes of his chest rubbing against her skin.

"'Delicious' is not the word I would use," Auron remarked gruffly, smoothing her hair down around her shoulders with his hands, warming her skin with soft, slow kisses and the puff of his breath as he browsed the porcelain planes of her shoulders and neck.

"Oh?" she panted. Her fingers worked their way across the muscles of his back, kneading him lightly. She shivered again. The air of the cave was cold, and she had other reasons to feel chilled, but she concentrated stubbornly on Auron's heated body moving over her.

"We'll discuss it later," he grunted in a brisk, curt manner that elicited a fleeting giggle from her. They had spent so much of the journey exchanging such words to plan their party's route, compare notes on potential hazards, and arrange camp duties and watches, that the phrase seemed disarmingly innocent. Tonight they were making up for lost chances, annoying spectators be damned.

Auron wrapped his arms around her waist, giving her a reassuring squeeze when the inevitable sly, "Go on, hero, eat those juicy teats," trickled down over them like slime from a sand-worm's looming maw. Lulu winced and leaned over him, kissing the top of his head so that she would not have to see Yojimbo drifting closer. "Don't stop," she whispered. Her loosened hair tumbled forward, black braids falling over the swordsman's scarred shoulders. Growling in reply, he drew one breast into his mouth while fondling the other, sucking her with such tenderness that tears welled in her eyes. Her nails dug into his back in a silent warning even as the tingling warmth of his mouth wrenched another helpless whimper from her. Auron bit down hard and suddenly. She gave a startled yelp.

"Better?" he murmured, moving to the other side.

"Mmm," she whispered back, not about to admit here and now that she was enjoying his loving attention as much as his rougher play.

Auron did not linger over her breasts too long, although he had her moaning by the time he moved to the white polished lake of her stomach, licking and nibbling. He released his embrace, trailing his hands around her buttocks and thighs until he came to the buckles draped low across her hips. Again, there was a subtle pause, and he glanced up, gauging her expression. Auron was rewarded by a sight that Yojimbo had good cause to envy. Lulu was flushed, her eyes deep and enflamed, her hair falling in loose wisps and black waves around her neck and shoulders. In truth she looked like the insatiable wanton Yojimbo kept teasing him about. Yet still she held herself proudly, straight and pale as a sword.

When Lulu spotted the swordsman's questioning glance, she pressed her lips together and nodded with determination, eyes flicking upwards in cool defiance. Her hands were clinging to the warrior's shoulders just a little too tightly. Auron turned his head and pressed another emphatic kiss against the smooth, flawless skin of her inner arm, then set about unbuckling the leather straps through which the white skin of her legs peeked so enticingly.

There was little teasing play between them tonight. Mindful of their host, Auron stroked her legs with firm, soothing caresses that flooded her with warmth even as her upper body began to cool in the moist air. Settling onto his knees, the swordsman bowed his head in her lap, breathing in her scent. Lulu tensed when he pressed an insistent, lingering kiss against the inside of her upper thigh. He pulled back at once and let one hand drift up her leg and in, brushing the back of his knuckles against her heated flesh. Cupping his hand gently over her mound, he looked up. The mage let out a purring sigh, smiling down at him raptly.

With a gleam in his eye, Auron watched her expression as he began to caress her with intimate, tingling touches. He savored her silent gasp as her full lips fell open and her dark lashes fluttered closed. Rumbling under his breath, Auron paid sensual homage to the alluring spectacle. Her fingers curled behind his shoulders, kneading him with short, convulsive squeezes that unknowingly mimicked the heated pulse of her body. Tiny, nearly inaudible whimpers spilled out from her throat.

"Lulu," Auron groaned raggedly. His outburst made her jump. The sorceress opened her eyes, startled to find they had been closed, and saw the raw, pent-up need in the clenched muscles of his face. It both stirred and terrified her.

Could she really do this? Dear Yevon, the image of the Fayth was planted at Auron's left shoulder like a temple statue, so close that the insubstantial fabric of Yojimbo's jacket fell right through the swordsman's elbow. The strange bird's head mask was reflecting the blood-red of Auron's coat bunched behind her and the all-too-familiar pale gleam of her own skin. Just in time she averted her gaze, for she could feel inhuman eyes soaking up the sight of both of them, draining away the heady flush of yearning that made her body tremble with anticipation.

The mage anchored herself on the honest, frank lust in Auron's features and the deeper tenderness that she shied away from naming. "Take me," she commanded, bracing herself.

She expected him to make a spring for her, pinning her against the rock: that would be true to form. However, Auron did nothing of the kind. The swordsman eased his fingers out with a tender caress, kissing his fingertips. Instead of mounting her at once, he stopped to unbuckle his boots and step out of his trousers. The evidence of her earlier handiwork jutted out from his body proudly. She ached to touch him, but she had only a brief tantalizing glimpse before Auron grasped the hem of her dress and lifted the garment over her body, moving his hands slowly up her hips, waist, and sides. He tossed the gown over the hilts of his sword standing nearby, causing the buckles to jingle together and making her flinch. "Shh." Auron gathered her loosely in his arms and gently positioned her on the edge of the ledge, kissing her nose and provoking a startled laugh. Sobering, Lulu parted her knees and encircled his broad chest with her arms as far around as she could reach, drawing him close. Auron let out an explosive breath.

Tears began to bead at the corners of her lashes as the mage raised her head to meet his searing kiss. Auron hesitated, smoothing her hair back from her face once again, and searched her dark, desperate eyes for one last confirmation. Flashing him a bright smile, Lulu pushed her hips against him, wriggling to center herself.

Stroking her hip with gentle, soothing caresses, Auron began to sink into her slowly, plying gentle kisses across her cheeks and lips and licking away the stray tears. His body was taut with concentration. He was holding himself firmly in check, taking her by slow, scintillating degrees. Lulu moaned as he filled and stretched her. She felt as if they were falling. Finally he was sheathed fully inside of her and gave her another kiss that was two parts lust and one part reverence. "A goddess, I would have said," he whispered darkly. Lulu shook her head wonderingly and kissed the corner of his jaw. By unspoken signal, their bodies molded together and began to rock in a slow, voluptuous dance.

Mild euphoria began to take hold as Lulu opened her legs wider and rolled with him, taking his long, hard strokes with a slight twist that made both of them gasp and tumble together in fervent kisses. Sometimes when Auron sank into her, he stayed and growled whisperingly at her ear. Then she wrapped her legs around him, summoning all her concentration to flex and tighten her burning inner walls and pleasure him in a way that Yojimbo could not see. They held each other's eyes rapturously, watched the turmoil of passion unraveling the other's stern features, or sank into each other's mouths and made love with tongues swirling, lunging against each other.

Auron's face gleamed eerily in the eldritch light of the pyreflies. For a moment his skin flickered, and Lulu thought she glimpsed a faint sheen of silver, a mask covering his cheeks and jaw. She reared back in shock, but saw nothing amiss and everything right in his wild, lust-filled features. He made a puzzled noise deep in his chest. Rallying, she flashed him a sultry smile, breathed deeply, and squeezed him tightly with her inner muscles, drawing a strangled groan from the warrior. Lulu joined him with a deep throaty sigh, sagging in his arms as the dizzying sensations overwhelmed her for a few trembling seconds. The pleasure was still mounting to an impossible crescendo, and she was already soaring in his embrace.

His face contorted. "_Yu Yevon_," he gasped suddenly. She started at the uncharacteristic oath and reached up to stroke her hands through his hair.

"I won't break," she whispered fiercely. "Just..._ah_. Let go." She bucked her hips against him, adjusting the angle and crying out as a stab of pleasure lifted her even nearer the brink.

"Lu--" He breathed her name like a talisman, but his voice broke in his throat. The warrior's hands gripped her waist almost painfully. Tears started in her eyes again as he hung above her for a pregnant moment, giving her an unfathomable look. Three words even more dangerous than _I trust you_ were on the tip of her tongue.

"Yes, you really are a delicious creature," Auron hissed in a silky growl, and plunged into her.


	7. Death

Lulu's hands in his hair went still. Between one moment and the next, ecstasy had turned to frantic revulsion. It was Auron's body, his hands, his face, his beautiful voice, but the rhythm was all wrong, speeding up to a ragged, violent tempo that jarred her from her toes to her teeth. When she opened her mouth to protest, she found his features twisted into a cruel, heartless grin, distorted by the throes of lust. The leer in his eye was that of an utter stranger.

"Auron!" she gasped.

Contemptuous laughter was the only answer. Lulu tried to twist her way free, but the warrior's powerful hands clamped around her waist and held her anchored against the stone pedestal. That same strength she so admired was suddenly her worst enemy. She had to bite back the overwhelming urge to blast him with every magic she possessed. At this range she might kill them both. Then again, it might be preferable. Bile rose in the back of her throat as she struggled not to scream.

The sorceress' outrage trumped her panic, barely. "Leave him alone! He owes you nothing!"

The face that looked like Auron's smiled coolly and patronizingly. "Only your life." He thrust his tongue between her teeth, and she wanted to bite right through it. But Auron's body would pay the price.

Lulu fought and spat and finally managed to push his tongue out of her mouth, jerking her head aside. Her heart was screaming, angry and afraid. Where was Auron? What had the Fayth done with him? Surely he had not been Sent so easily, after all he had endured?

Her assailant was pawing at her, squeezing her breasts brutally, barely giving her a chance to breathe, let alone think. She was not about to yield him any more satisfaction than she could help, however. Her face went cold and stark, and her body limp. The sorceress breathed out, skimming a hand up the side of his neck. She mustered every ounce of will to block out what he was doing to her, inside of her. She had cast spells before with poison raging in her veins. This, too, was poison.

_And she was death._

The dark mage cupped her hand, nails pricking just where his pulse should have been. The ghastly gleam in his eye winked out as his body went limp and boneless against her. She shoved at him desperately, and he toppled, falling away from her like a collapsing sail ripped from its stays. Auron's body hit the ground hard and lay still.

Lulu crumpled, rolled onto her side and drew her knees against herself, burying her face in her arms and taking great gulping breaths. She could smell Auron's scent on the fabric of his coat beneath her, but that was hardly reassuring right now. Her whole body seethed with pain and nausea.

"Impressive," said a disinterested voice near her shoulder. "That's the second time you've killed someone dear to you outside my cave. Although your Summoner's death was mere carelessness."

Lulu jerked upright, hands curling defensively, although she had no power to affect the Fayth's native guise. Yojimbo's ghostly form was hovering at her elbow, and Auron lay below her in a painful sprawl of limbs. Sick with dread, Lulu slid off the shelf and knelt at the warrior's side, setting a white hand against his cheek. He was cold and stiff as if he had lain there for hours. She struggled to heave him onto his back, then reached for her discarded gown and fumbled in the sleeve. What had Yojimbo done to him, and for that matter, what had she done? She did not know what spell she had used: new magic usually came to her by discipline's mastery, not fury and despair. Would phoenix down be enough to call him back?

Her fingers closed over a small glass vial. She drew it out and carefully snapped off the cap, willing her hands not to shake.

Yojimbo watched with arms folded. "Suppose I ask for _that_ instead?" he laughed.

Chilled, pale, and naked before the spirit's contemptuous gaze, Lulu raised her chin and fixed him with a marrow-curdling glare. "Suppose I bring down the mountainside over your cave and seal you to fester in your own filth, alone for all eternity?"

"I'll grant you one thing, girl, you're more honest than most who come fawning to me for favors. So, are you forfeiting the bargain?" He sounded indifferent. "Your life for his? Rather pointless under the circumstances, don't you think?"

"I am in no mood for your games," she hissed, turning her attention back to Auron. Carefully she shook the wispy golden fibers within the vial onto her open palm and breathed on them. They glowed and crackled to life like liquid flame, the hot molten shimmer of a furnace. Quickly she scattered the burning filaments across his face, praying silently to a god whom the ex-monk did not seem to care for. The minute strands of fire instantly burned away to ash, clinging to the stubble on his grey cheeks.

The seconds dragged out. Lulu kissed the dark scar over his brow, cursing herself for ever dragging them to Yojimbo's lair. Finally Auron's eye snapped open. She flinched again, for there was no sign of recognition in his face, only fiendlike rage. Rolling away from her, he shoved off from the ground, staggered to his feet, and wrenched his sword from the earth, lumbering towards Yojimbo like a beserk Ronso. Insubstantial or not, the Fayth retreated before the warrior's wrath. Yojimbo raised his arm in what Lulu recognized as a summons.

"No!" Lulu gripped the stony wall and pushed herself to her feet, putting every ounce of will she could into her voice. "Auron, wait."

The swordsman halted, chest heaving, blade balanced above and behind his shoulders for a swing. On another night Lulu might have been able to enjoy the image: muscles in his back straining, his whole physique a lean thunderclap of muscle and sinew, the hair streaming down his neck and shoulders where it had come unmoored from the thong that usually kept it pinned back. Right now it was all she could do not to yield to the boiling horror in her gut telling her to bolt and run.

"Sir Auron. Do you hear me? Yuna needs you. Don't slip away." Her voice cracked. "Please."

Yojimbo gave a derisive snort. "Your bitch has you lapping out of her hands. Some comedown for the legendary hero."

Auron's shoulders shifted subtly, and he straightened. "Check a mirror," he rasped.

Lulu sagged against the wall. However, there was still Yojimbo to deal with. She regarded him balefully, her voice thin and shrill to her ears as she spat out, "Sir Auron is excluded from this exchange. Your business is with _me_. You had what you asked for, until you violated the terms."

"Don't presume to lecture me, girl," Yojimbo said ominously. "You named no such terms."

His cold voice nearly cost her what few scraps of self-possession she had left; she could still feel Auron's body battering her without mercy. The real Sir Auron was tensing for a spring: she saw the muscles of his shoulders and back bunching and knew she must act. "Are you sure you should not be called _faithless_? Name your price. Anything I have with me... save Auron." She had a sinking feeling she knew what the capricious spirit would ask for next. Right now, she almost thought it would be easier.

Yojimbo laughed. "Then I will take what you are carrying now. _That_ would be sufficient."

Lulu blinked in confused astonishment and looked down at the empty bottle in her hands.

A spasm of utter fury erupted from Auron's throat. He launched himself at Yojimbo. However, at the last second, he flung the black sword to the ground with a clang. "Take it."

Lulu's mouth dropped open. "Sir Auron!"

Auron thundered onwards as if he had not heard. "This ends _now_. Yojimbo, that is our final offer. That sword has cut Sin's dying flesh and bathed in the the lights of lost Zanarkand. It shielded Lord Braska's life a dozen times over before his journey's end. More than sufficient for guarding a wretched girl for a single night."

Yojimbo's eyes gleamed behind the birdlike mask. "The sword of Sir Auron, legendary hero. Yes. Yes, that, I think, will do." He set a dim shadowy hand across the hilts, caressing it. "I had a sword like this."

Lulu slipped towards Sir Auron shakily, setting a hand against his elbow. "Are you sure?" she breathed.

"No," he snarled irritably, "but I promised Yuna I'd bring you back. Get dressed. We're leaving."

Reeling at the rebuke, Lulu let her hand fall. She returned to collect her clothes and donned them in numb silence, feeling the sordid marks of his hands on her body as she laced her bodice over her bruises. She did not raise her eyes as Auron re-girt himself in his cuirass and coat, nor did she ask how they were to survive the return trip without Yojimbo's hateful aid or Auron's trusty blade. Numbly she rose to her feet and planted herself beside the warrior, who stood waiting for her with arms folded and barely spared her a glance.

Yojimbo chuckled softly behind them as they moved off. "You think me cruel. But you are far more cruel, hero. Do you really think that child is strong enough to survive your Sending, when the time comes?"

"I am no child," Lulu said through gritted teeth.

Auron's face was cold.


	8. Orpheus

The twisting tunnels leading back towards the surface were one more strand of the nightmare. Lulu barely noticed the pyreflies drifting past them, nor did she hear the distant skitter and scrabble of claws over stone in the side-tunnels as they passed. Auron was leading at a swift pace that she had trouble matching, but she plodded after him doggedly. An icy numbness had settled over her aching frame, making it easier to put one foot in front of the other. She moved like a sleepwalker through the black gaps between crushing walls of stone, abstractly aware of the presence of ghosts before and behind them. Auron's red coat was the one dim blot of color that she could see, and his stealthy tread and the faint gurgle of the sake jug at his hip were the only sounds that penetrated the hollow place where her mind had retreated.

They had put some distance between themselves and Yojimbo's cave when Auron dropped back and propped a hand on the stony wall, interposing himself between the mage and the tunnel they had just exited. Lulu halted, painfully aware of his keen gaze measuring the taut line of her shoulders, her straight back, and the disheveled hair falling in wild waves across the side of her face. She flinched at his voice, although he spoke so softly that she had to strain to hear him. "I'm sorry." He cast a wary glance behind them. "I underestimated him."

Lulu's voice seemed to come from some other person: dispassionate, cool, measured. "I am not your responsibility, Sir Auron, and I should not have asked you to accompany me. No apologies are required." She exhaled. "But thank you. Forgive me if I do not say, 'I am in your debt.'"

He grimaced. "Please don't." The slightest movement of his shoulders towards her was enough to make her take a step back. "Lulu, listen to me."

The mage stood stiffly with arms folded, hating herself for the way her heart pounded when he loomed over her. He was using that compelling, softspoken voice that could whisper _trust_ at her ear without her laughing in his face. _I trust him,_ she reminded herself, but right now it was painfully difficult to remember what that felt like. "Yes?"

"The sword. It's a piece of metal, a valuable tool, nothing more. But I could not let _him_ know that, or--" He reached for her cheek with a knuckle, checked the motion, and let his fist drop. "Do you understand?"

She swallowed, the concern behind his words seeping in slowly. "I... think so."

"Good." Auron fixed her with a level gaze. "Because now you have to be Guardian for both of us. I'm trusting your strength. Stay alert. Or at least stay angry."

The sorceress blinked rapidly. "Auron, I--" She swayed, nails digging into her palms. Fatigue and throbbing pain were finally catching up to her. He reached down to steady her, and Lulu stiffened as his gloved fingers closed over her shoulder.

Auron released his grip at once and turned away from her. "Lulu." The rhythm of his words washed over her like a caress. "Hold on. I know you're hurt. I can't carry you, not all the way back to the gorge. You wouldn't let me anyway. Keep fighting."

Lulu nodded, willing back tears. Auron was holding her with his voice instead of his arms. She listened, tasted it, fought against the invisible hands roaming her body even while he spoke. "I'll do my best." She stared at him, seeking that wall of strength that she knew she could lean against, trying to push away the nightmare that laughed in his voice and leered with his face and made his every movement seem threatening. Against her better judgment, a question slipped out. "Auron? Were you still there, when Yojimbo... took over?"

Auron hesitated. His brows knitted together as he glanced over his shoulder again, ostensibly to check behind them for threats. She knew the answer from his silence before he spoke. "Every instant," he said finally.

_Every instant._ Three years on, Lulu remembered every instant of her own frozen limbs' betrayal, the sight of Ginnem struggling to gasp out one more spell as the lizards swarmed over her, pulling her to the earth and tearing at her until the screams faded away. No wonder he had retreated behind the barricade of his collar. Auron shoved his glasses firmly against the bridge of his nose. "We need to get moving."

The sword was nothing, only a piece of metal, but its owner had paid a terrible price for her sake. She would not waste time with guilt any more than she had with Ginnem. She simply raged for him, for herself, and for vengeance unrequited.

Lulu held out her hand to him, subdued. "I believe I can manage angry."

Later, Lulu could recall very little of the return journey. Her body was bruised, and every step served to remind her of where and why she ached. She allowed Auron to steer her unless there was damage to be done. Keeping a gentle grip on her hand, he drew her through the shadows, hugging the walls at a maddeningly slow pace. So they crept past most of the fiends unnoticed. Most, but not all. Their healing supplies steadily dwindled. At least they met no lizards.

Finally the ground began to rise, and they were coming to the reaches of the cavern where the wind howled across broken gaps in the roof high above. A few dim stars peeked through. The air was getting colder. Chilled and numb, Lulu barely realized that they they had halted again. Peering past Auron's shoulder, she suddenly noticed a dirty yellow gleam near the floor up ahead. It was coming from a small lantern, and it was inching closer.

Of course. Just what they needed right now.

"Don't even think about it, Auron," Lulu hissed, stepping in front of him.

The small green knot of menace watched them from the shadows with brass button eyes. If only they could slip past it! But inexperienced Guardians often met their end that way, those that were not quite so foolish as to think a Tonberry as harmless as it appeared.

"Focus first," Auron reminded her.

"I know." Gritting her teeth, the mage tried to settle her nerves by running through mental exercises, tasting the currents and energies around her. Auron's powerful presence felt alarmingly like a fiend's. Both were Unsent. To her inner sense, they seemed to broadcast an alien, disquieting pang of discontinuity like a splinter of ice in a wound. With the Tonberry so close, however, she could plainly perceive the difference. Fiends were power without purpose, thrumming with a seething energy like insects boiling out of a hive to attack a trespasser. Auron was a focused fist of self-identity, as rooted as an old tree.

The Tonberry had taken a few steps closer while the mage centered herself. She fell back upon the banter that helped her push aside worry and achieve that neutral balance she needed for control. "It's too chilly down here, don't you think?"

A wild burst of flames danced across the fiend's scaly green skin, bubbling and frothing, causing the Tonberry to stagger. Righting itself, the diminutive creature began to sway from side to side. The baleful golden light of its lantern burrowed into her skull, closing off her throat. Howls, cries, and snarls beat against her ears. It was far worse than she remembered from her last run-in. She felt Auron's hand braced against her back. When her vision cleared, the small creature was a pace closer, although she had never seen it move.

Lulu shuddered and raised her hands again. She saw Auron out of the corner of her eye, gloved hand clenched around a weapon that was not there. Scowling, the mage glared at the tiny fiend crouched in the center of the narrow passageway. A column of ice crashed down and shattered in a thousand bright shards. Again the Tonberry was flattened, but only for a few seconds. Lulu tried to look away, but the sinister swing of the lantern was oddly compelling.

There was a sickening wrench, and the howls and plaintive voices beat at her through every pore of her skin. She felt the life being leeched out of her. Auron was gently guiding her towards the wall and easing her to the floor. She recovered her senses just in time to see him make a running leap at the wretched creature, slamming a hard kick into its midsection. The little figure tumbled over, righted itself, and thrust the gleaming light in the warrior's eyes. Auron buckled, sinking to one knee with a groan.

Eyes burning, Lulu sent a sizzling bolt past his shoulder and gritted her teeth at the inevitable wrenching backlash. "Auron," she panted. "Just wait."

"No time," he growled, heaving himself to his feet. Both fists came crashing down on the Tonberry's skull. Before she could muster her power for another volley, Sir Auron collapsed face-first to the floor. The Tonberry walked right over him. A cold knife gleamed as it closed on her with mindless malice.

A cold, bitter rage blasted through her. _Not again._ The power was singing dangerously in her now, and the threads of her control began to snap. Lightning lifted up and out of her fingers, snaked along her braids, sparked off the buckles and fastenings of her clothes, and again and again pounded the hateful creature. At last it tumbled over and the lantern winked out. Ghost-lights drifted upwards as the dust settled.

Utterly drained, she hurried to Auron's side and struggled to turn him over. To her astonishment, he was still breathing, although his face was ashen. "Well done," he rasped.

"Idiot." A flood of relief washed over the mage as she fished in her sleeve for another precious healing potion. A hint of color returned to Auron's haggard face after she held it to his lips, but he was hardly his usual hale self. Reluctantly, she sipped another potion for herself and felt strength return to her shaky limbs. She was painfully aware of how few they had left. "That's my second to last," she sighed. "How many do you have now?"

"No point in worrying about it," he grunted, helping her to her feet. "Let's keep moving."


	9. Psyche in Hades

Sometimes a black mage's fire was like caged Sinspawn, hurling itself against the bars of its prison, howling to break free. _(The dragonlike creature bucked and twisted in a maddened frenzy.)_ Sometimes it came as a slow burn, and you had to hold it, keep holding on, waiting for the pressure to build. _(Auron's arms were wrapped around its neck, hands locked on opposite forearms, grimly enduring as his body flew through the air like a spiderweb torn in the wind.)_ You could not afford to notice the least distraction, or risk losing focus in a burst of wild magic. _(The cloying scent of the Thorns' pollen was choking, but one had to keep breathing, knowing the risk.)_ Sooner or later the perfect moment came, and you brought your hands together and let go with every fiber of will and sinew you possessed. _(It started as a dull red gleam like embers in the midst of green tendrils sprawled across the path; then a few sputtering tongues of orange began to lick upwards, and finally a rushing wall of flames devoured leaves and stems, leaving behind pyreflies and ash)._

"Auron," the mage called over the roar of his opponent. "Let go now."

The swordsman had his hands too full to reply. His victim was thrashing under him like an untamed chocobo. Lulu waited until Auron seized his chance, eased his choke-hold, and went rolling across the ground, coat flapping behind him. The instant he was clear, the air above the Nidhogg split open. A river of water came sluicing down. Already weakened, the huge reptile quickly succumbed to the battering deluge.

She slipped towards the warrior as he heaved himself to his feet. "Everything in one piece?" she asked, reaching out to straighten his glasses.

Auron nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "One would almost think that you enjoyed leaving me tied up."

"Sorry about the delay." Blue beads clicked behind her as Lulu drew herself straight. "I'm a little tired."

His hand hovered near her shoulder like a hesitant butterfly looking for the right petal, but after a moment he closed his fingers and lowered it to his side. "Come on," he said gruffly. "We're getting close."

The sorceress gave a weak laugh. "You've said that three times, now, Auron," she murmured, reaching out and lacing her fingers with his. "I do remember the way, you know."

The pyreflies parted for them, and they pressed on. At last, the curving tunnel yielded to an open space with one blackened and scorched husk of a tree standing sentinel at the foot of a cliff. Spotting the bleak marker to their first battlefield, Lulu was moved to give a silent bow, hands cupped in the gesture of prayer. Auron snorted beside her, but she did not care. The sweet flowering scent of a fruit tree at an unexpected oasis in the Bikanel desert could not be more welcome just now. The spare landmark affirmed his patient reassurances: the entrance was not far off.

First, however, they still had to escape. Lulu surveyed the wall of tumbled rocks barring the exit. "Well," she said ruefully, "that was not very strategic."

"But effective," he replied, striding towards it. He held out his hands to help her climb. Her skirts and belts were also less than strategic.

Just as Auron reached the top of the wall and flung a leg over, there was a whoosh and a flare that lit up every boulder and pebble with ruddy light. The tunnel beyond stretched out like the path of the setting sun across a lake. The swordsman was engulfed in flame. He lost his grip and went sliding downwards in a tumble of loose stone, landing roughly. Lulu scrambled down behind him, ignoring the stones shifting ominously underfoot.

"Lulu?" he wheezed. Magical fire did not usually linger long enough to ignite hair or clothing, but it started within, and the damage there could be deadly.

"That wasn't me." She cast her eyes upward and hissed. "We've got company." She could just barely make out the liquid gleam of pyreflies reflected on two dark, shimmering shapes floating overhead.

Abruptly, Auron threw himself across her as a wall of water came crashing down. Lulu fought back a most unwelcome surge of panic at the sensation of being pinned, but it only lasted for a moment. He staggered back a step, giving her room to work. "Heal," she told him tersely, hearing the telltale rasp of his breath behind his collar. Then she pivoted on one heel to address the fiends.

Luckily, Auron was a seasoned enough Guardian that he knew better than to save supplies and rue too late. "That's my last," he warned her. "Be swift."

Well aware of the need for speed with these, the mage drew her hands together with a curt, emphatic snap. A starburst of ice shards and snow exploded outwards from one of the fiends, raining down tiny needles of cold. _Not enough_, she observed with an inward groan. The Dark Element quivered under the battering, but held its integrity. A wave of -- _something_ -- struck her in the gut, and she tasted poison on her lips.

Wonderful. "You want to play with fire?" she snapped, trying to ignore the oily, crawling sensation of the venom beginning to sink into her like insects wriggling in her arms and stomach. Water crashed around her, bombarding and blinding her, but she got off a messy burst of fire that stung her pride but got the job done. One fiend rolled over and melted in dripping tatters that became dancing lights. The heat of its demise beat against her upturned face. Yet her skin was clammy, and she felt herself weakening. "Now, where are you hiding?" she grumbled to the second of the pair, peering into the abrupt darkness in the fireball's aftermath.

"Right above you," Auron growled behind her. The ache in his voice brought a wan smile to her lips. He wanted to fight; he would have made a poor Summoner.

"Not for long," she remarked.

Lulu had only a split second to grasp the horrifying sight of her thunderbolt folding itself double, bouncing off the glassy skin of the fiend, before she was lifted and thrown backwards by a blast that set every nerve on fire for an instant before her limbs went numb. Apparently she had blacked out for a few seconds. Auron was stooping over her, lifting her head and shoulders and setting a small vial to her lips. She recognized the last of her stores from Besaid, given her by the temple priest before he blessed Yuna's journey. She turned her head away stiffly, pressing her teeth together. "Zombie," she insisted.

"This is no time to be stub--" Auron went rigid as another bolt struck him from behind. Numb as she was, Lulu could barely feel the unpleasant buzz of the shock jumping from his arm to her shoulderblades. For an eerie moment, every line of the looming rock walls around them was cast in knife-edge contrast. Auron's careworn face flashed before her, his eye squeezed shut as the jolt tore through him. The crack of thunder jarred every bone.

"Do it," she pleaded, voice more breath than speech, "or we'll be discussing it on the Farplane." The Dark Element swirled behind him like a fiend's madness made visible: a living enigma of ill-omen, veins of darkness and silver rippling through its translucent flesh.

"Not on my watch." Stonefaced, Auron stood and set a heel against the rock wall behind him. As the fiend bore down on them, he exploded upwards in one of his improbable leaps, swinging one arm over an upper curve of the strange glyph-like creature, scrabbling for a foothold on one of its lower limbs. His boots skidded as if on the rungs of a greased ladder. The Dark Element writhed and twisted, sinking lower under the man's weight. He curled the fingers of his left hand into claws and struck out with an oblique, cutting motion, then fell to all fours as the fiend let fly another blast where he had been a moment before.

Closing his gloved fist around the vial, the warrior flung his outstretched fingers upwards. Clear droplets settled into the hollows and curves of the fiend's complex shape, leaving white welts and streaks wherever they touched. Auron wasted no time in reaching across Lulu and retrieving the last precious potion. She barely felt his hand brush her wrist. Even the crackle of poison in her veins had dulled to a faint shimmer like crickets on a hot summer's night.

As her lids drifted shut, she saw the fiend spin, wobble, rip apart into long black streamers, and vanish in a sparkle of pyreflies. _Efficient_, she observed, making a mental note for future battles. The poison's farewell kiss precluded further musings.

The rocks, the pyreflies, the pale white flowers clinging stubbornly to crevices overhead: these gave mute witness to the pent-up howl of fury that erupted from the older Guardian's throat. Lulu might have scolded: he risked drawing enemies with his outburst. But she had not heard.

Grimly, Auron gathered up the slight woman in his arms and made the final leg of the journey alone.


	10. Phoenix Dreams

_In Spira, even the dead can dream..._

A cool wind wind off Kilika Bay was rocking battered boats against their pilings, causing Auron's heavy coat and the leather straps of Lulu's skirt to creak faintly like stiff sails. The fur trim of her dress ruffled gently around her shoulders and breasts. Gulls wove sweet, mournful music high above in which the Hymn of the Fayth seemed to hover just out of hearing. Out of the corner of her eye, the sorceress saw a billow of blue fabric: Yuna.

The Summoner's dance was breathtaking in its beauty. She whirled with arms and fingers spread wide to taste the wind, scattering drops as her feet skipped across the water's surface, staff describing the space around Auron and Lulu with sweeping artistry. The corners of her sleeves whispered past their faces like wings as she leapt and flew. Pyreflies curled up from their clasped hands in lazy wisps. A loving smile brighter than the moon shone on Yuna's face as she circled them.

Auron and Lulu stood rooted in a different sort of orbit, like two old trees growing together. Straight and unmoving, the swordsman and sorceress faced one another on the end of Kilika's splintered dock where the broken boards fell away into the sea. The water around them was glass. A blood-red sunset set Auron's coat blazing and dyed Lulu's skin with a deep blush like light from an Al Bhed oil lamp. Around them in a wide circle on the water and the dock were gathered all of their friends. Kimahri kept watch by the torches, whose flame shifted from gold to blue as Yuna's dance continued. Tidus, slouching in the shallows, was tossing a blitzball back and forth with Wakka, who stood forlorn and marooned on the sea-weathered planks.

Lulu chafed inwardly, noting how far the boy who could not be from Zanarkand had sunk into the bay. She had meant to explain to him about the undertow. There was no time now. Anyway, this time was for Auron and for her.

"No tears, Wakka," Yuna reminded the crestfallen blitzer as she soared past.

"Ya, I know, but--" Wakka descended into an unintelligible mumble, nearly dropping the ball when it came tumbling through the middle of her graceful dance.

"Buck up, Wakka!" Tidus called, leaping out of the water with a hearty splash to snag the ball as it spun back towards him. "The new season starts soon!"

Lulu smiled wistfully. She could not remember the last time she had felt so at peace in herself, floating upon the soft lapping of the water and the homelike scent of surf and fishing nets, sun-baked wood. Auron's face filled her sky and held her gaze with the same burning intensity as the sun. She would not mind standing here forever, feeling the faint, slow pulse moving between their laced fingers, slower than it had been while they were alive. And yet--

"They'll be all right," Auron rumbled quietly. A few more pyreflies drifted up from his collar.

"I know," Lulu replied, hoping Yuna would not notice the wetness on her own cheeks. "But I wish I could have seen her to Zanarkand."

"We will. With Braska."

Yuna's dance was drawing to its conclusion, and her feet were no longer touching the ground. A swirl of pyreflies was bearing her aloft. Her staff twirled past Lulu's ear, brushing her braids and setting the beads clicking behind her. "Go on, you two," the Summoner said fondly.

Auron bent his head gravely, Lulu tipped her face upwards, and they fell together in a sweet, tentative kiss very different from their early, rougher play. Rikku's raucous cheer barely penetrated the bubble of Calm around them. Their friends began to clap and applaud. All were reduced to a faint music of forest crickets behind the stirring thrum of Auron's profound presence, the wild spill of his gray hair tickling her cheek, the citadel of his once-solid frame.

These pyreflies were growing distracting. Lulu's skin prickled with tiny searing points of flame as they fluttered away from her. Her vision began to darken and fade, and she felt her body rising upwards through his kiss into the sky. _Give us one more moment_, she pleaded silently to Yuna, but the Summoner brought her staff down with emphatic finality. Kilika vanished. Black shadow flowed over the docks, the sea, the sunset, and Auron's halved gaze, fixed and steady upon her face until the end.

Darkness bore down on her. Disoriented, Lulu found herself lying against a cold and unyielding floor. Fluttering ashes tickled her cheeks where tears had been.

_I had expected the Farplane to be brighter somehow._

An after-image of Kilika's sunset seemed to cling to her eyes for a moment longer -- or had it come first? There was a flash of gentle, golden light. Petals opened like a flower, every color of dawn. A flame-colored arrow of feathers and talons and furled wings came diving down and down, plunging halfway through the hulking mass of a looming fiend with the force of a lightning stroke. Pyreflies blossomed.

Somewhere nearby, Rikku let out a lusty cheer. "Good going, Yunie!"

"You okay, Lu?" Wakka asked worriedly, fumbling for the dropped vial and setting it against her cold lips. His thatch of red hair nodded over her. "You gave us quite a scare, ya?"

The bitter taste of the Al Bhed concoction jarred Lulu fully back to wakefulness. She discovered that the stiff blanket weighing her down was Auron's coat. For that, at least, she was grateful. Potions were nothing short of magical, but she could not be certain whether the rude impress of finger-marks above and below her collar-line were all her imagination. She clutched the jacket closed and sat up with a lurch, twisting to get her bearings and search the gloom for targets. Same stone walls, same pyreflies, same wreaths of purple mist lingering in the crevices, same eerie patches of crystal pulsing in the walls: was there no end to this accursed labyrinth? Her quick scan showed three Guardians, a Summoner, and the substantial shape of an Aeon nearly filling the corridor a short distance off, but no fiends.

"We got 'em all!" Rikku crowed with a proud twirl, dancing beside her demure cousin. "Thanks to Yuna and Rikku, Legendary Heroes!"

"Hey," Tidus protested mildly, leaning on Chappu's sword on the far side of Valefor. Yuna brushed the spirit's beak fondly, then lowered her staff in a formal gesture of thanks and dismissal. The tunnel suddenly grew less crowded as the Aeon catapulted upwards and vanished from sight.

"Where is--" Lulu started to ask, but a gloved hand came up under her elbow and lifted her from the floor when she tried to stand. Auron held her arm a moment longer than necessary, then stepped back wearing his most inscrutable expression. She caught a bare hint of a whisper like a caress. "Turn around."

Swivelling in place, Lulu drew a tight breath. A dim, gray oval where no pyreflies hovered marked the entrance to the Cavern of the Stolen Fayth. Kimahri stood waiting for them with his spear bisecting the entryway, guarding the threshold between tomb and the realm of the living. The mage's eyes watered.

"We're all here, Lulu," Yuna said warmly behind her.

"Yeah," Tidus sounded tired but smug. "No thanks to the old man. He said we should stay in camp."

"As if any of us could sleep," Wakka muttered, reaching out to roll the discarded blitzball towards himself, then clambering up beside her. He was still peering at her warily, like a potter searching a dropped bowl for hairline fractures.

Auron ignored the ebb and flow of conversation, tucking his right arm against his belt as if he were still wearing his coat. "Can you travel?" he asked quietly.

Lulu's lashes dipped. At the moment, taking mental inventory was an uncomfortable process, although she was normally one of the more honest Guardians when it came to check-in after battles. She struggled for that clinical, dispassionate perspective that usually came so easily, starting with neutral spots like the back of her scalp and and her toes that had no part in her body's betrayal. Hair disordered. Feet weary. Face probably strongly overdue for a wash. Her extremities' numbness had completely vanished, or rather, it was no longer due to lightning. Her senses were dulled, her legs felt leaden, her waist felt as if someone had squeezed her with an oversized nutcracker, and the soreness between her legs was probably more imagined than real, but it still made her loathe walking. Still, she had traveled most of the way back from Yojimbo's sanctum under her own power, and it irked her that Auron would question her now.

Wakka burst in while she was honing a confident reply. "Before we go trottin' off, there's just one thing I want to know: _why_?" He scowled at Sir Auron. "What were you doin' back there? Lu was almost dead. _You_ could've been dead, if we'd waited any longer!"

The older Guardian's gravelly laughter rolled over his interrogatives and washed them out to sea, punctuated by Tidus' predictable, "Huh?"

"You're welcome," Auron said mildly. "Kimahri. Carry Lulu, please."

Recovering her voice, Lulu shot him a caustic glare. "I am perfectly capable of walking."

"Kimahri can walk faster," Auron said baldly. He gave her arm a light squeeze. "Rest. You've exhausted your magic. We'll need it for the mountain tomorrow."

"Wow," Rikku exclaimed,"you guys were really having fun tonight, weren't you?"

"I guess we'll hear the story later," Yuna murmured with a firmness that almost made Lulu smile, despite her weariness. "Come on, Sir Auron's right. Let's not wait for anything else to find us."

~ * ~

Despite her adamant protestations, Lulu grudgingly admitted to herself that Auron had been right, and she would have to punish him for it later. She found herself dozing intermittently as they trekked through the canyon, lulled by Kimahri's rolling stride. For a mage who lived life through the power in her fingertips, it was draining on body as well as spirit to deplete magic to the last dregs. However, that was not the only reason for her fatigue. She was secretly grateful for the rock-steady Ronso, who had served as their favorite mountain to climb for years after Yuna's arrival in Besaid. She could no more feel threatened by Kimahri's massive arms cradling her than she could by her own bed, even if she still blushed to remember his heavy paws dangling her high above the river that day she had set the tip of his tail on fire.

Once or twice along the way, the horned Guardian paused and sniffed at her curiously, making her tense the first time it happened. However, Kimahri never asked questions, a courtesy she appreciated more than ever tonight. The rest of the Guardians displayed no such reticence. Between naps, she feigned sleep and rested quietly against his shaggy shoulder while the others peppered Auron with questions that she was only too glad to avoid. Unfortunately, it was difficult to ignore being the chief topic of conversation. Perhaps it was time to demonstrate that she had not quite exhausted her fire-magic after all.

"So what's this 'errand' thing, anyway? Did Rin open a supply shop in there or something?" Rikku chirped sarcastically.

Sir Auron, at least, seemed to be enjoying himself, or Lulu was no judge of deadpans. "That is--"

"--her story, yeah, yeah, we get it," Tidus growled. "Can't you find a different way to say 'I know and you don't, so nyah'?"

"Perhaps," Yuna interjected softly, "Sir Auron is right. In Macalania, you never pressed me for reasons, you simply trusted me. I appreciated that so much. I knew I could rely on you, even if I could not explain."

"Like that worked _so_ well," Rikku teased.

"Well, Yuna coulda tried to Send Seymour without havin' to kiss the bastard if we'd not come blunderin' in like that, ya?" Wakka admitted reluctantly. Deep thought was not his forté, but Lulu appreciated it when he made the attempt. "Or mebbe not. I donno. Yuna just didn't want us gettin' into trouble on her behalf. Even if we were her Guardians." He could not quite resist adding the fond dig at the end.

"Exactly," Auron grunted. "Lulu's errand had no bearing on Yuna's pilgrimage. Therefore she did not wish to endanger Yuna's Guardians."

"Look, Auron," Tidus said. "Why all the secrecy? She told _you_, didn't she?"

"No."

"Ummmm..." Rikku was probably scratching her cheek again.

"Just tell me one thing," Yuna stated quietly. "This is the second time Lulu's gone off alone. If it should happen again--"

_Enough_. Lulu exhaled and lifted her head from Kimahri's shoulder. She could not lie there like a limp Moogle while they prattled over her; sooner or later the anger brewing inside would erupt in an explosion that she would probably regret by morning. "Yuna," she called quietly, surprised to see firelight flickering off the cliffs ahead.

The young woman materialized immediately at Kimahri's elbow. "Lulu?"

"Put me _down_," the mage said in fond exasperation, blowing fur out of her nose. Kimahri rumbled and gently set her on her feet. A wall of house-sized boulders loomed up before them like monstrous teeth, and Lulu realized they must have reached the far end of the gorge. The faint glow of torches trickled up the canyon walls beyond the boulders. Auron, leading the way through a gap between them, checked his step with a grimace and turned, leaning casually against the rock-face. The rest of the party streamed around Lulu in a semicircle. She realized with an inner groan that Rikku was not the only one practically bouncing on her toes waiting for the mage to speak.

Lulu settled her eloquent hands on Yuna's shoulders, gazing into an earnest young face that held no shadows, despite Yevon's betrayal and a vile first kiss from an unworthy suitor. _Oh, I love you, sister not of my blood, but there are some things that your pure heart was not meant to know_. "I give you my word: it won't happen again." She took a deep breath, wishing that could be enough. No, the pang of worry in Yuna's mismatched eyes had to be soothed, and nothing less than the truth would fool her. Lulu sensed Auron's steely gaze on her as she spoke in her usual careful, measured tones. "There was a ghost from my first pilgrimage that I had to face, lest it come back to hinder us at a time not of my choosing. Sir Auron and I have dealt with it. I have no desire to explain or brood on it further. Please, accept my apology and allow me to put this behind me."

Yuna reached up to retrieve one of the ornate hairsticks that had tumbled out of the bun and tangled in Lulu's fraying braids. "Oh, Lulu, of course. I only wish--"

"I know." The older woman turned slowly, meeting the exasperated expressions of her fellow Guardians with a sphinx-like smile that betrayed no hint of inner turmoil. "But you _have_ helped me, more than you realize. My thanks, all of you." She bowed deeply. It was a mere platitude, but for purely irrational reasons, she found that she meant it. The vision of a Kilika sunset was helping her ward off the shadows of Yojimbo's cave.

"Whoah," Wakka said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Don't overdo it, Lu. You sure you're okay? You're startin' to sound like Yuna."

"In that case, as soon as Lulu has fixed her hair, we can go to bed," Auron deadpanned behind them.

"Sir Auron!" Yuna protested. "In _that_ case, no teasing, or I'll set your boots on fire."

"Lulu already tried once tonight," he stated truthfully.

The sorceress relaxed and joined in their light laughter with the same proficiency that had honed the Summoner's smile to a burnished shine. "Now come. I have a keen interest in investigating this 'bed' Sir Auron mentioned." She turned with a sweep of skirts over dusty grass and followed him into the sheltered campsite. It was probably for the best that their comrades had defied Auron's edict and come looking. Lulu was not certain how she could have threaded her way through the Crusaders' encampment, steeling herself to face five friends with nosy dispositions. She glided past the few sentries still on duty with head held high, ignoring their curious or furtive glances.

A cot. A mat. A pile of leaves. Any of them would do right now, and she found her feet moving faster as they approached the humble lodgings nestled in the cliffs' shadow. The circle of canvas-sided huts brought her up short as she peered more closely: for an instant she found herself transported back to Besaid.

Yuna touched her arm. "We had them prepare a hut for you. Unless you'd rather stay with me and Rikku tonight?"

Lulu smiled. "I... I need to think. But thank you, Yuna." It felt good to fall back on familiar shorthand.

"All right, then." Yuna nodded towards a smaller lodge on the opposite side of the cul-de-sac from the one Auron was heading for. "Over there. I'll stop by and have a look at you in the morning, okay?"

The words were casual, but the Guardian did not make the mistake of missing the edge of command. Lulu almost wished that Yuna had not yet begun to tap into that core of steel which the mage had detected in her years ago. Almost. "Very well. Give me a whistle--" she knew that would make Yuna smile-- "before you come in." Lulu turned back to the others, still whispering over her non-answer of a few minutes ago. "Goodnight," she appended somewhat lamely.

"'Night, Lu," Wakka mumbled, something more behind his simple words than for the rest of them.

She nodded to him, a tacit acknowledgment of that something more, and turned away before he read too much into the exchange. Trudging towards the small mushroom-shaped hut, her ears pricked as the party scattered for what remained of the night.

"I'll take first watch," Auron stated.

Kimahri, however, contradicted him with a ringing note of finality, almost of challenge. "No. Sir Auron fight all day, all evening. Kimahri take his watch tonight."

Disappointed, she ducked through the hanging fabric door, waited stoically for her eyes to adjust to the faint light filtering through the canvas walls, and moved towards the nearest cot. Alone at last. Not that she really wished to be, but she had a sinking feeling that arguing with Kimahri would be unwise.

Lulu hesitated for a long moment, carefully removing Auron's coat and holding it dumbly in her hands before deciding that he could collect it in the morning. She folded it and set it across a second pallet. Then she threw herself face-down onto the cot with a thump, fingers wrapping around the utilitarian frame with a desperation that astonished and frightened her. Her body was seized with a sudden fit of trembling. Meditation verses and scriptures scattered from her mind like a school of startled fish. She tried to wrap herself again in the bittersweet vision of union and dissolution, but Auron's face kept changing to a leering stranger's when she clung too tightly to his hands.

_Don't think. Feel._ Lulu felt the savagery of a ghost between her thighs, fingers too strong, and an invisible tongue sliding over every patch of skin he had defiled, so much that she longed to borrow Rikku's knives, scrape away the outer layer of her flesh, and waste a few healing potions to purify herself. The horrific memory of their ordeal kept replaying itself in her mind like a broken sphere, but now she was keenly aware of Auron's silent rage, the warrior shackled in his own body's prison as silent witness and second victim. Her hands curled into fists, but there was no target for her anger.

_Are you just going to sit here, stewing in your own regrets?_ It was his voice in her mind, telling the mage what she usually told others. The corner of her mouth turned upwards in a humorless smile. His words did not help, and she could not stop feeling. However, as he himself had remarked, her stubbornness had taken no injury from the night's fiasco. Willing her trembling to stop, Lulu sat up, stripped -- yes, stripped; she refused to bend her routine by a single buttonhole for Yojimbo's sake -- laid her hairsticks neatly in a row beside the cot within easy reach, and burrowed down under as many sleeping furs as she could find.

After tossing and turning for a while, she snagged Auron's coat and spread it meaningfully over the top of the pile of blankets, brushing her hands across it and willing it to be a talisman against the ghost of his impostor. Finally, exhaustion performed the banishment that willpower could not, and she slipped away from echoes of a fallen Aeon into her own unquiet dreams.


	11. For Want of a Sword

It was a mistake.

Auron watched the young woman on the low pallet dispassionately. She lay with her back to him, but he had studied that innocent young face on more than one night, trying to divine the future in the pattern of her fine bones. The priests at the temples sometimes used scapulas from slaughtered beasts for divination, seeking signs of the next year's harvest, the time until the next Calm, or the prospects for a great man's wedding (they never forgave him for defying the decrees of the dead). A rigged future. Hers was too. Would her left eye win? Or her right?

The illusion of choice.

Jecht had talked about a game they played in Zanarkand, his Zanarkand. You lay down on a board in the breakers offshore. Catch them just right, and you could ride them all the way up the beach to dry land. Any other way, and you would slide off the back or get picked up, hurled, broken, and drowned. It was easy to see why he enjoyed it: he was a blitzer. Sword's art was not so different. Seize the moment. Don't look back to your last move. Don't plan too far ahead. Stay open to possibilities. They were only there for a split-second, and the ones that you did not see were usually the ones that killed.

The warrior monks and Yevon demanded discipline, obedience, and doing things by the Book. Braska made that way beautiful. All you needed was faith. The whole system was laid out for you, one stepping stone towards death at a time.

Auron had been playing Jecht's game for ten years now. It served. It was probably why he had not yet spotted Ginnem or Seymour or Yojimbo looking back at him from the mirror. Hold onto the goal. Hold onto the board. Don't grip too tightly. Let the waves steer. Don't fight like you own or understand the sea. It will drown you.

_"Do you suppose that one of us could, just for a time, make the other feel like one of the living?"_

They had been the right words at the right moment. One instant sooner and he would have laughed in the siren's face. An instant later, and he should have turned and walked away. Spira was no playhouse. It was a morgue. What had he been thinking? Damn the woman!  
_  
Don't think. Feel._

I know what it feels like now, Jecht. I saw the terror in her eyes. I felt her fighting me with all her strength-- no, not all, or she would have clawed out my eye and bitten through my throat-- and there was no way for me to defend her from this enemy. I felt the intruder in me that exulted in her suffering, in her pain, in her violation. Worse, I was that intruder, sharing in his appetites, feeling a fiend's joy feasting on living flesh and the prey's struggle. For that moment, I was Sin. Is this how you felt destroying your beloved Zanarkand, extinguishing your precious stadium, leaving behind a shattered shell where beauty had been?

Enough.

Auron knew it was time to reach for his sword when he started churning over the past. Brooding was not simply a self-indulgent luxury for him, like it was for the young people. It was poison. He had felt his mind slip a few times over the last ten years when something threw him back to that last day in Zanarkand, to Braska's fearless face mounting the stairs and Jecht's cocky, "I'll think of something." The first time Auron had let the memory ride him, he had gone back to the Dome and gotten himself killed. Now there was every chance he would become the anger that animated him, and lose his mind. He had to hold onto that board a little longer. Or in his case, a sword. The trouble was that right now he didn't have one.

Wakka was sawing away with his rattling snore in the cot beside the empty one where he was supposed to be. Yuna was used to the noisy lullaby and smiled even in her sleep. Auron had left her in the others' care and shirked his duties too much tonight already, but he needed to anchor himself. They hit Gagazet tomorrow. He walked towards the curtain-door and through it (had he remembered to push it aside?) and stepped out into the cold, clear air.

Yuna would be moving on none too soon. Auron loved rugged places, but he preferred to be on top of them; if there were walls he wanted a roof. He surveyed the end of the canyon wearily. For a moment, he thought Kimahri had vanished, then he realized that the other Guardian was parked by the mage's tent. Torches gleamed off his yellow eyes as the Ronso turned towards him with a forbidding stare that included him among the fiends being guarded against.

They had definitely slipped off the crest of the wave tonight; forwards or backwards remained to be seen. First rule of being a Guardian: trust your friends. Now the Ronso was suspicious, and Lulu (it hurt to think her name right now) might be in no shape for the last leg of this trip she had spent years training for.

There had to be a sword lying around here somewhere. These people were Crusaders.

Auron trudged off behind the lodges, turning his back on the Ronso's silent accusation, and ambled among the stores, eyeing packs and bundles and barrels stacked up in the shadowed alley between the huts and the cliff. He noticed an alcove off to one side with a weed-grown altar to Yevon, and nearly passed by with a snort. Instead, some instinct that had made him jump and ride Sin twice now diverted his steps towards a dark opening between two rough-hewn pillars set into the cliff. He stood staring down at the worn glyphs on the altar's plinth, finding Mi'hen's sigil and wondering whether it was Kinoc or some earlier Maester who had let the old rites lapse. Not that it mattered. When Auron was still in temple, he would have been outraged by the shrine's neglect, but he no longer had much faith in heroes.

His boot-tip fetched up against something that clanked. The swordsman smiled sourly, bent and felt around in the tall grass until his glove found a hilt. An ornate hilt. A hilt attached to an ostentatiously enormous blade with prongs and flanges and teeth like a dragon's head. Auron would have assumed the rusty old blade had been made for show in the old Monster Arena, except... except...

Auron sat down in the grass, laid the ancient weapon across his knees, and began to laugh.

How many people had searched for the sword of Lord Mi'hen? How many still believed? How many had scoffed at it as myth? He had believed, before Braska gave him a quest better suited to a young man's passions. As a junior monk he had pored over all the books, every scroll and scrap in the temple's library, searching for clues to hidden treasure. It had been here all along. Red and grey rust had eaten away the inscription on the pitted surface, but he had memorized that sword's silhouette.

With a certain sense of irony, he propped his elbows on the relic and dismissed it from his mind to take stock of the battlefield.

Oaths: Yuna and Tidus safe for the present. He had better get his head on straight and keep them that way.

Pilgrimage: problematic. The mage's wounds would take more than one night to heal. _(His body driving into hers, while her "I trust you" screamed in his mind.)_ Would she be able to continue as Guardian? Would she be the voice of wisdom Yuna needed in Zanarkand? This was a close-knit group. Would they start dividing their attention between concern for Lulu and their Summoner? Five Guardians were enough, although she was the most seasoned. The Ronso village would probably take her in.

Vengeance: on schedule. He would like to add one more name to the list, but Yunalesca and Yu Yevon were enough of a challenge. He suspected that Lulu would take care of Yojimbo for him if she survived the pilgrimage. Appropriate, since that was her story, but he could not help wishing to witness the conclusion. He would like to know what revenge her dangerous mind would devise. He hoped that she would choose a wiser option than he had. Face-down on the floor of the Cavern of the Stolen Fayth was not where her story should end.

_Lulu_. His hands tightened around the blade. She had said there was nothing between them. Just two old souls on the way to the Farplane, seizing a little fire back from a world gone cold. He thought she had meant it. It tasted like something different now, although both of them were wise enough to know better. How could this have happened?

The crucible of the pilgrimage knitted Guardians and Summoner together. Two at least had to be bound by love by the time they reached Zanarkand. Auron had opted to play this game a second time and see if he could make the ending come out differently, but he had forgotten some of the rules. The other Guardians were too young, too innocent to understand him, and it was easy to keep them at arm's length. She saw through his scars. He saw through her unscarred mask.

_Do you really think that child is strong enough to survive your Sending?_

She would have been, until Yojimbo. Now he was not certain.

Unless Yojimbo meant something else. Should he warn her? No, Lulu had been cold and dead in his arms for half an hour, long enough to preclude that possibility. (_Impossible_.) Even were it true, there was not much to be done. She might expect him to stay. That was not possible, and he had not needed the examples of Ginnem and Yojimbo to know why.

Yojimbo spoke lies and made them hurt. Auron would not be fooled by that one.

Which left...

Himself. Troublemaker. Yuna and Braska and Jecht needed the Legendary Guardian to be focused on the mission, not another Guardian. He had gone with Lulu tonight to make certain that Yuna had all six Guardians and was not mourning a friend's loss on the slopes of Mt. Gagazet. However, Auron was not fool enough to fool himself. He had gone for other reasons too, reasons that had nothing to do with oaths, vengeance, or finishing what Braska had started.

"Isn't that what you want, old friend? To try a different way?"

Auron sat back and returned his attention to his surroundings warily, searching for the voice's owner. Dark lumping shapes of huts like sleeping shoopufs. Cliffs rising out of his sight to darkened sky. Flicker of torches. Rustlng dry grasses tickling his bare arms. Hero's sword that meant nothing to him propped across his knees. No pyreflies anywhere in sight to play tricks on him.

"It is not relevant to our quest, my lord," he stated flatly.

"Do you remember why we went on this journey, my friend? To kill sorrow. To bring joy to Spira. Love is relevant. Otherwise you would not have wasted time showing Tidus that sphere."

"That was part of my promise to Jecht."

"Then promise me you'll use the moments you have left. Not only for Yuna. I know you'll look after her. For yourself, also."

"With all due respect, I'm not making any more promises."

Braska's quiet laughter drifted over him. "'Make mistakes. That's what youth is for, after all. Do not waste it.'"

Auron grunted irritably. "Fine advice for the young."

"You never let yourself _be_ young, Auron."

The kindly presence left him then, or the pyrefly-hallucination ended, and the swordsman found himself staring at a single guttering torch between the shoulders of two tents. It was pulsing like a heartbeat.

_Don't think. Feel._

Auron had done enough thinking for tonight, that was certain. But he felt...

He felt alive, as Lulu had promised. It hurt worse than being dead. He wanted to go to her and beg her forgiveness. He wanted to set the whole damned pilgrimage aside for a few days and coax that wicked smile into her eyes again before it was extinguished forever by the lies of Zanarkand. If he were not careful, he was going to discover whether this body he wore was capable of tears.

The flame flared up a brilliant yellow, danced for a few seconds, then collapsed in on itself and went out. An omen? If Auron sat here much longer, he was going to start trying to read the future in split bones. Time for the sword.

With a grunt he stood, moved over to a cleared space behind one of the empty tents waiting for a new generation of cannon fodder, bowed himself over the blade, and began to acquaint himself with its weight, its balance, its scarred history. He lost himself in controlled, perfect arcs carving the space around him. This dance was his old lover, an easy partner that knew all his favorite moves. Spinning thrust. A quick snap downward. The sweep that hewed limbs at the first joint. The beheading stroke.

Suddenly a choked cry muffled by thick canvas and distance ripped through the spell of sword-play. His own name? Auron set the sword down with a thump and dove through the gap between the lodges. Ignoring the flash of a startled sentry's weapon whipping around, he crossed the mustering-ground with purposeful strides, heading towards the smallest tent. He could not so easily ignore a spearhead the size of his hand coming down in a sweep to clank against his breastplate, or the narrowed eyes of the Ronso braced behind it. "Kimahri check Lulu," the other Guardian rumbled dangerously. "Auron stay out."

Unarmed, Auron tensed for a split second, weighing openings. None worth taking. Fuming and keeping frustration hidden behind his glasses, he gave a stony nod. "See to it. I'll guard." The tap of the spear-point against his chest held a double meaning when the Ronso turned and headed silently for the tent.

Maybe this was wiser. The Ronso had watched over the trio from Besaid for ten years. Auron was just a passing dream, like Tidus. Right now, a cause for nightmares. Head bowed, he stalked back to Yuna's hut, shutting his ears against the too-faint sound of a woman's voice.


	12. Dream, Child of Prayer

Lulu kept drifting into the fringes of nightmares and floundering her way out again like a boat navigating a treacherous reef. Each time she came to herself with heart pounding, she would sit up mechanically, retrieve and rearrange her nest of blankets, lie down again and contemplate the six spokes of the roof beams until her eyelids drifted shut.

Meditation exercises did not help.

What helped was to recreate the Kilika dream in her mind one brush-stroke at a time, from the blazing glory of the clouds down to the humble wooden planks beneath her feet. The gulls' crying set her mind whirling on the wings of hymns, and she could distract herself by fitting chants to their wild tune. _Fire in the heart. Ice is in the bones. Thunder in the mind. Water in the womb_. Sometimes she would lose herself in the subtle, stately pulse of Auron's fingers interlaced with hers, savoring the image of his strong face in repose. She found that she had to handle the dream delicately, pulling it over herself like a thin blanket. If she clung too fiercely to the images, they would break apart, or, worse, Auron would start hurting her.

Dream, nightmare, waking; dream, nightmare, waking: it quickly became a dreary dance.

Once particularly vile nightmare roused her with a choked cry. She twisted away from the sensation of groping hands so violently that the cot tipped over, spilling her onto the carpeted floor. Irked with herself, Lulu climbed back onto the thin mattress and tried to clear her mind. No use. Her mind was in the mood for tricks. One moment she was imagining Auron's voice just outside -- no, that must be Kimahri fending off a curious sentry. The next moment, the billowing of the canvas walls began to sound like an intruder's breathing. Cool reason was not making much headway tonight.

Very well. Lulu threw off the covers and pulled a sputtering ball of flames into her hands, surveying the tent to prove to herself once and for all that--

Kimahri was sitting just beyond the foot of the bed.

"What are you doing here?" She glared at him, holding the flames rather longer than necessary to confirm the intruder's identity. Orange sparks danced dangerously between her fingers. "You should be watching over Yuna."

"Five other guardians," he replied, unfazed. His spear had been laid across the floor next to the cot like a barrier between her and the door, as he often did when sleeping near Yuna during the shift before his watch.

Crimson eyes locked with gold, but the Ronso's expression was as mild as it was immovable: he reserved tests of will for his own kind. One might as well attempt a stare-down with a statue. At length, Lulu eased her hands apart and let the fire fade. "Well, I don't need one," she said coolly. Turning her shoulder to him, she rolled over and resettled herself on her stomach, pillowing her forehead on her arms.

There was a faint rustle. When the Ronso leaned forward to draw the blankets up over her back and shoulders, she tensed. "Lulu unwell," he observed bluntly.

"Lulu is _tired_," she snapped. "I'm fine. It was just a bad dream."

Kimahri grunted. Tact was not a Ronso art, but the big Guardian still hesitated before voicing his cold accusation with a rumble that did not bode well for one member of the party. "Auron hurt Lulu."

"What?!" So that was it. Oh, Yevon, she was so tired of explanations, and if the Ronso thought that, she could no more budge him than ask Mt. Gagazet to move aside for Yuna's pilgrimage. "Has Sin's toxin gotten to you, too? Don't be a fool."

He just sat there. Lulu lay still, fuming at the lies hanging in the heavy silence, even more offensive than the truth. Finally she sat up again, twisting a blanket around herself and glaring at him. "Kimahri Ronso. I know what you think, but you are mistaken. If Sir Auron had dared to... _hurt me_--" her tongue slid around the dangerous words like one might skirt a sleeping Ochu -- "is there the slightest chance that he would still be standing in his boots?"

"Yuna needs Sir Auron," Kimahri said grimly. "Lulu knows this."

"Be glad Lulu also knows that Yuna needs Kimahri." The mage bitterly resented that the most laconic member of the party would pester her with his non-questions when Yuna had let her be. There was no way she could let his outrageous accusation stand; Yuna could not afford to have her Guardians doubting each other. "Listen to me. It wasn't Sir Auron. It looked like him, and it tricked me as much as your nose, but it was _not_ him. Auron came to my aid. If he hadn't, Yuna would have no mage to guard her for the rest of the pilgrimage. Understood?"

Again, the Ronso's ponderous silence while he was mulling over her words nearly drove Lulu to prod him with a hair-stick, or something more painful. "I trust him, Kimahri," she found herself adding in a low, strained voice. "You can't imagine what you're saying."

Finally the quiet guardian bowed his head. "Kimahri sorry. Glad Sir Auron is a friend to Lulu."

"That's better. Now get out." She lay back down with a sigh and closed her eyes.

There was a soft _whissh_ near her ear as he picked up his spear and stood. However, he made no move towards the exit. "What?" she snapped in that dangerous, low thrum that warned of an imminent lightning strike.

"Kimahri worried about _Lulu-trusts-Auron_."

The mage gripped the edge of the mattress-frame, but some of her irritation evaporated. She could hardly fault him, after she herself had grilled Tidus for much the same reason. Once again, Lulu found the truth too difficult to put into words, but Kimahri's veiled kindness deserved more than another sharp retort. "What's one more goodbye?" she asked obliquely.

The Ronso gave a soft _huff_, the kind that usually accompanied a head-shake. Finally he slipped out, leaving the curtain-door swinging behind him like the hem of an old red coat.

Lulu drew a deep breath and slowly gathered herself again, steeling her mind for sleep like one might prepare for battle. She must rest. They tackled Gagazet tomorrow, and Yuna needed her. That was all that mattered.

Dream. Nightmare. Waking. A sweet sunset on Kilika's shattered docks, and a memory of the impossible. Dawn could not come too soon.

Something else came first.

"Lulu?"

At first she thought she had merely imagined the swordsman's gruff voice, cutting through the mental chant she was using to muffle the throb of bruises and more intimate transgressions._ From the mind to the spine through the bones to the ground. Feel the steel of will that burns deep inside. Feel the pulse of life in Spira's soil. They are the same, in flesh and earth bound. Breathe out, breathe down, into the earth. Breathe in, breathe up, into your spine..._

"Lulu."

A spasm of fear and relief flashed through her. Her eyes snapped open, but the silhouette she saw was cast against canvas from outside. She hesitated, but claimed the choice before he turned to go. This was their story, not Yojimbo's. "Enter," she said firmly.

The door was brushed aside. A wreath of fitful orange light limned Auron's silhouette briefly as he stepped across the threshold, backlit by a few guttering torches. The door dropped behind him, sealing them in shadow. He came to her cot and settled on one knee.

"It's late, Auron," she murmured tiredly.

He shrugged. "Spot of trouble with a Ronso."

"Same here." Quietly her hand stole out from under the covers, found the knotted sinew of his shoulder, and slid down until she hit upon his hand. Their fingers interlaced and locked in a strong grip that belied brittle words.

The warrior's gaze drifted across the huddle of furs and his rumpled coat draped across the top. The latter drew a crooked smile. "I heard you couldn't sleep."

"Wakka's snoring again." Lulu watched him from beneath her canopy of hair, cheek pillowed on her forearm.

"Hmph." Wakka usually snored, of course. "I couldn't either," Auron confided.

"I was afraid of that. Auron, I'm so--"

"Shh." He growled in exasperation. "One apology was already more than you owed me, Lulu. Just rest." He reached out to smooth the coat flat, stroking her back through several layers of fur and fabric. When she tensed beneath the blankets, he withdrew and resettled his hand on his knee.

There was a poignant silence. The older Guardian settled into a sitting position, watching the rise and fall of her shoulders peeking through the tangled mass of unraveled braids like the moon through bamboo leaves. At first, he guessed that she had taken his advice and drifted off again, beaten at last by sheer exhaustion. Suddenly the covers went flying, the cot flipped on its side, and the mage sat up and lunged for him. She flung a white arm around his neck to keep from falling face-forward. Taken by surprise, Auron caught her in his arms. (_Gleaming like a fish in deep water, all womanly curves and long legs and skin, with a mane of black hair that spilled out like Shiva's tresses -- curse her, maybe it was mere lust after all, but on the whole that might be simpler_.) Lulu folded herself against him with a staggered sigh and buried her face against his collar. "If you do that again," she muttered, "I will bite you."

"I'm sorry." Arms did not seem to be an issue, so he kept holding her. "You'll have to explain what I must do to get you to bite me. Another night, perhaps?"

That elicited faint, precious laughter. "Don't pull away," she insisted. "Whatever my body thinks, I want you here."

"I...can see that." Auron leaned forward and kissed the the tip of a pale shoulder cautiously. "Lie down."

Reluctantly, Lulu disentangled herself, noting with weary satisfaction his sharp intake of breath despite the dim lighting. She stretched out beside him, kicking the wooden frame of the cot away. Carpets over bare earth were not much of a bed, but then, they had been camping out under the stars for months. Quietly and efficiently, Auron rearranged the furs and blankets over her, shed his metal shell and slipped in beside her, lying on his back. She snuggled over and against him with an arm curled across his chest.

There was a world of things that needed saying, but dawn was creeping closer. Auron laid a hand over hers.

What Yuna would think if she found them in the morning, Lulu could not imagine, but she was too tired to worry about that just now. Once again she closed her eyes and tried to make herself relax.

Auron stirred beneath her. Barely above a whisper, he began to sing in a high, breathy tenor very different from his usual gruff tones. "_Ieyui nobomeno..._"

Lulu went quite still. She had heard a ghost of that voice in the sphere Jecht had left behind, but more than that, she knew with awed certainty that she was hearing the pure, unshaken soul of a young novice at temple, before the world had taken away his eye and taught him to see its scars. She wanted to ask how a fallen monk who had turned his back on Yevon could still bear to mouth the words, let alone sing like he still meant it. Instead she kept quiet, too entranced to risk breaking the spell.

The white magic of the Hymn soothed her. Auron's rich, soft rumble coiled around her like deep furs. She nestled into the sound of it, not realizing that the scent of her hair and skin was having much the same effect on him. By the time he fell silent, Lulu was sleeping soundly. Yuna's whistle would find both of them wrapped together and at peace, come the dawn.


	13. Sisters

In fact, it was well after dawn before a curiously shrill sound cut through the canvas walls of the lodge.

Auron woke at once and glanced down, contemplating a view more alien to him than the unworldly Aeons in all their glory. Monastic life had certainly not prepared him for it. Hesitant wonder smoothed his stern features into a relaxed smile that would have astonished his comrades. Then again, the rest of the party would have been flabbergasted to discover the mage and warrior dozing peacefully in each other's embrace. Lulu's wan cheek rested in the hollow of his breastbone near his heart, her raven hair spilling over his chest. Even in sleep, she was clutching his hand like a talisman. The sight of her white shoulder peeking out from under his coat hit Auron in the gut, and he wondered whether he should have been so quick to dismiss Wakka's and Tidus' ongoing debate whether the sorceress dressed that way to boost their morale or torment them.

Spectating would have to wait. Yuna had begun calling Lulu's name. Auron cautiously loosened his arm that had stolen around her waist while he slept. The mage groaned and blinked awake groggily, chasing his fleeting kiss as he gently rolled her onto her side and slid out from under the blankets. It proved less easy to separate their hands wedded together.

"Lulu!" The rising urgency in the Summoner's voice gave a few seconds' warning. Auron sat up, swung an arm out to right the overturned cot, and met Lulu's open-mouthed alarm with a wry smile and a shrug. A triangle of gray light splashed across him. Yuna stepped inside, let the curtain-door drop, and pulled up short with a gasp.

"Good morning, Yuna," Lulu said pleasantly, sounding a little fuzzy. Her back was to the door, but she could see the faint twinkle in Auron's eye.

"Um," the young woman said eloquently, giving Sir Auron a hard look. Her cheeks colored slightly.

"She had my coat," he stated, unruffled. "And nightmares. Apparently our expedition yesterday was more difficult than Lulu cared to admit."

"Remember that the next time you tackle a Tonberry and leave me to finish the job," Lulu growled, struggling to collect herself. She released his hand with a pat. "Now go. I appreciated the company, but I will not appreciate our comrades' gossip if they start jumping to conclusions."

Sir Auron arched an eyebrow at the Summoner, who was still standing agape just inside the door. "You have a point." Unhurried as ever, he reached for his breastplate.

Yuna covered her mouth with a startled laugh. "Oh! I'm sorry, I thought maybe I was...intruding." She moved towards Lulu, blushing fiercely.

With an amused snort, the older Guardian drew his armor around himself and began flipping the clasps shut along the seam. "Lulu. Remember what I said," he added gruffly. "Forget past pilgrimages. Yuna will finish what she starts. We'll see her to Zanarkand." He leaned towards the mage to tug his coat back over her exposed shoulder. The careless brush of his hand against her cheek conveyed a separate, private message. Giving Yuna a curt nod, Auron straightened and strode out.

Lulu waited for the sound of the tent-flap, then sat up, clutching the blankets around herself with head bowed. "Is he gone?"

"Yes." Yuna slipped over to her, curious and tentative. "That was... strange." She brushed her fingertips across the scuffed red fabric. "He still forgot his coat. Do you think Sir Auron could be a little afraid of you, Lulu?"

The mage gave a ragged chuckle. "Somehow I doubt it." A weak smile danced across her lips as she recalled his clenched jaw and muscled torso arched beneath her while she licked his skin with molten lines of magical heat. _Well, maybe a little._ Shaking her head, she leaned over to retrieve her dress, inspecting it for damage. The torn sleeve and dry, cracked leather around several buckles were not too noticeable, but they offended her sense of order. Unfortunately there was no time for mending. With a sigh, Lulu started to draw the garment over her head, but was checked by Yuna's surprisingly firm grip on her elbow.

"Wait." The younger woman gave one of her determined smiles. "Let me have a look at you, Lulu. 'Sound Guardians keep a Summoner safe', remember?"

"Oh. Very well." Lulu gathered her dress into her lap, praying that potions had healed the finger-marks enough to disguise their origins. "I suppose I can't protest after making Wakka let you tend that burn." Yuna's soft giggle was comfortingly familiar.

The mage sat with head bowed, listening to the faint twitterings of swallows in the canyon outside. The sides of the lodge creaked and billowed softly like sails set in a breeze too weak for travel. Muffled by canvas, the subdued murmur of morning conversation from people moving outside rustled in the chill air, but she could not pick out one voice among the rest. Lulu's lids began to droop as Yuna circled her, peering at the scabbed-over lacerations on her arm and hip.

"Hey. You still with me, Lulu? Maybe I should've let you sleep in."

"Certainly not. I've already held us up more than enough," Lulu said crisply, coming back to herself.

"It's all right." Yuna dropped to her knees facing the Guardian and met her gaze with subtle concern. "Sir Auron said... you were having bad dreams about the pilgrimage?"

"And a few good ones." Bless her, Yuna was asking about more than nightmares, but so discreetly that Lulu could pretend not to have noticed. The mage set her hands on the girl's shoulders and smiled thinly. "Let's just say that this place brings back powerful memories, for good or ill. But Sir Auron is right. Every pilgrimage is different. You find trouble, Yuna, but you always find your way out again, even when Yevon itself confounds us. Your father would be very proud of you."

Yuna blushed again. There was a brief silence while the Summoner mustered her own tingling strain of magic, so very different from the dark mage's harsh slaps of power. The young woman drew her palm down slowly before the mage's eyes in a gesture reminiscent of banishing, and Lulu felt the toxic ache of unseen bruises drain downwards into the soil. Potions were all very well, but love given by a Summoner, whether to a single friend or the whole of Spira, had the power to overwhelm Sin itself, let alone mend a few minor bumps and scratches. Even wounds that an innocent heart could scarcely fathom were touched by that gentle nurturing. Lulu's hands twisted around the straps of her dress as her friend's fingers hovered unknowingly on either side of her waist, washing her through and through with invisible currents the texture of pure moonlight. The jangling wrongness was still there, coiling and twitching somewhere deep inside like worms in the stomach, but a friend's touch surely had more claim on one's flesh than a stranger's fleeting violation.

Suddenly, Lulu's spare words spoken to keep Yuna distracted seemed inadequate. "As am I," the Guardian added fiercely.

"Thank you, Lulu," Yuna said shyly, ducking her eyes with that sweet moon-smile that caused so many to underestimate her. Then she gave another tinkling laugh. "Okay! You'd better get dressed before anyone else stops by. Poor Tidus."

Lulu smirked faintly. "I'm sorry, Yuna, but he should have knocked." The leather felt soft and comforting against her skin as she threw the garment over her head slid into the black sheath of her gown.

"I cannot believe you let Sir Auron stay." Yuna scooted around behind the sorceress to lace her in while she started brushing out her unkempt mane. "Oh, Lulu, how can you stand all that hair? Maybe I should call Rikku for backup; she'd probably enjoy seeing you with pillow-hair anyway."

"Excuse me?" Lulu frowned. "Why would Rikku want to see me looking like a Guado?"

Yuna chuckled. "Well, you usually look immaculate, no matter what we run into. And you're so _grown up_, as she puts it. Would you believe that my cousin is jealous?"

"Oh." Lulu shrugged and kept brushing. "Give her three more years, and she'll have all the males on Spira wriggling at her feet. That should make her happy."

"Hey." Yuna gave the cord a firm yank. "Rikku's my cousin, remember?"

The sorceress chuckled. "Sorry." Honestly, she was in no mood for idle chatter, but she was keenly aware of how few of these mornings they had left. So many precious moments had unfolded during their dawn ritual between prayers and breakfast, before Wakka and Chappu came bursting out of their hut to tease the girls or turn temple chores into a noisy game. In her mind's eye, Lulu could see the piers of the temple tinted pink by sunrise while Yuna clung to her hand and poured out her wish to become Summoner. During such a dawn, Lulu had admitted to herself and to her friend how she truly felt about Chappu one spare word at a time. Yuna had been there for her, the day the icy shell had melted enough for her to speak her first words since news came of Chappu's death. Lulu had held the girl silently and glared away nosy onlookers after the first disastrous failure of her Summoner's trials, meted out sternly by a priesthood unwilling to be perceived as playing favorites with the island's most well-loved orphan and celebrity. Many mornings they barely spoke, but the silent communion of their hands weaving braid alongside braid were a sort of shared prayer.

Yuna finished tying the bodice and reached up to divide off a skein of hair. "Actually, Lulu, I wanted to ask you a favor."

"Mm?"

Yuna hesitated. "Would you keep an eye on Rikku for me?"

_When I'm gone._ The unspoken words hung in the air like a feather drifting slowly downward. Lulu sighed. "If she'll let me. But I don't think you need to worry. Rikku's a smart girl. Besides, she has a father to watch over her."

"That's why." Yuna smiled. "She'll listen to you. You won't try to keep her from being who she is."

"Very well." Lulu picked resignedly at a tangle. _She will not replace you either._ However, she left that like so many other entreaties unspoken; unlike Rikku, she knew where Yuna could or could not be budged, and saw little point in needling her about choices.

They worked in companionable silence while the light grew. Snatches of conversation from the camp drifted in indistinctly. Rikku's chipper morning patter and Wakka's sleepy grumbling made for an amusing duet, even if they could not make out the words. Lulu raised her head at a short, sharp retort from Sir Auron, and smiled faintly.

"You know something?" Yuna said softly behind her.

"Mm?" The mage was distracted, honing a retort of her own for the inevitable "sleepyhead" ribbing she was in for when they emerged.

"I think you were right about Sir Auron."

Sometimes Lulu thought the Summoner should have tried the sword's art; she had a masterful way of slipping right past one's guard. "Oh?"

Yuna chuckled."I don't think he's afraid of you, Lulu."

"Of course not. A Legendary Guardian who fought Sin is not going to be impressed by a few fireworks."

"I suppose." Gentle fingers moved up to her scalp to start working on the last braid. "That's not really what I meant. When I came in, he was... smiling. It was nice."

"Perhaps my 'pillow hair' amused him." Half alarmed, half charmed, Lulu found herself playing along with something close to enjoyment.

"Do you like him, Lulu?"

Lulu's will almost gave way, and she nearly attempted the perilous task of piecing together an honest answer. But Auron was Unsent. Would Yuna be able to dance for him when the time came, if she guessed the cost to a friend? Would Lulu be able to forgive her? "I respect Sir Auron a great deal," the mage said truthfully. "However, I have more important things to worry about on this journey. For instance, right now, why is my Summoner trying to play matchmaker instead of preparing herself for Gagazet's trials?"

"Oh, Lulu!" Yuna slipped the last bead into place and flung her arms around the older woman's shoulders in a fond hug. "I know, I just... want you to be happy."

"When the Calm comes, who knows?" Lulu allowed possibilities to hang in the air, feeling the weight of the impossible. "Maybe then I'll think about it."

"Good." Yuna giggled and gave her a final squeeze before releasing her. "Sorry, I just can't help but imagine you two being all grouchy and gruff together, like an old Ronso couple."

"Yuna," Lulu growled warningly, for appearance's sake.

"Well, that's that!" The Summoner hopped to her feet, eyes twinkling, and beat a hasty retreat. "We'd better get breakfast before they claim our share."

The mage stood with more dignity, straightening out her skirts and folding Auron's coat neatly over her arm. "Yuna?"

"Mm?"

Lulu reached out and tucked a stray mouse-brown wisp behind her friend's ear. "Thank you."

~ * ~

Wakka's and Rikku's obligatory teasing about oversleeping was somewhat subdued, and Lulu found herself engaging in prickly speech simply to reassure the others that she was perfectly fine, thank you, and their minds ought to be on Yuna's pilgrimage. Talk turned to Gagazet's frigid nights and the labyrinth of caves rumored to bypass the deadly northeast face, but Kimahri and Auron were less than informative.

As they were clearing away bowls and cups, Sir Auron held forth with blunt words. "The Ronso's village is the last place to turn aside. Gagazet and Zanarkand test Summoner and Guardians in mind, body, and soul. No one should undertake the path to the summit who is unable to stay focused and fully committed to Yuna's quest. Any doubt, any hesitation could put our Summoner and all her Guardians in jeopardy." He scanned faces turned suddenly sullen and belligerent. "There is no dishonor in turning back for the good of the pilgrimage. Every one of you has served Yuna well and faithfully."

"Hey," Rikku protested, looking up from the hilt of the sword she was tinkering with, a replacement for Auron's missing weapon. "We all want Yunie to win! We're just not willing to let her die. If you think for one moment that Tidus and I are going to let you take her up that mountain without us--"

"Understood," Lulu interrupted coolly. "That goes for you as well, Sir Auron." Hers had not been the only soul shaken by last night's ordeal, however much he was carrying on as if nothing had happened.

Her bold words sliced through the brewing argument, as her companions turned towards her dumbfounded. Auron, however, tipped his head towards her with a sour smile. _Touché_.


	14. Barriers

The morning was waning and the sun was slipping long thin fingers almost to the bottom of the cliff-walls when at last the party set out. They were tired of the shuddering, fitful breeze, despite the ever-present dance of swallows weaving patterns overhead. All of them were glad to be quit of that glorified crack in the ground that seemed designed to catch travelers a few days before journey's end.

One pleasant delay held them up at the far end of the gorge. The earnest young officer who had escorted them into camp the previous evening came dashing after them, waving his arms.

"Heeeeeeey!"

Yuna halted and turned, waiting for him as her Guardians automatically fell into formation around her. "Hello again. Is something wrong?" she asked innocently.

Lulu and Auron exchanged wary glances behind her shoulders, but the soldier was beaming as he advanced on them. "Can you wait just a little longer, Lady Summoner? We have some gifts for you and your Guardians! My men are bringing them now."

Auron managed to exude impatience without twitching a muscle, and Lulu shot a bitter glance towards the yawning cave mouth off to the right that she had been hurrying past as quickly as possible. Yuna simply clasped her hands together and smiled. "Oh, you really shouldn't have," she said warmly, "but we'll wait."

Around the bend appeared a bedraggled chocobo hauling a small wagon, escorted by a half-dozen soldiers whose faces were red and freshly-scrubbed. They fell over themselves drawing out bundles from the cart and passing them around. There were warm cloaks and mantles for everyone except Auron and Kimahri, who tended to be overlooked despite or because of his formidable presence. For Sir Auron, they had reserved a special presentation. At their leader's signal, two Crusaders drew out a long flat object and threw back its hide wrappings to reveal a truly outlandish-looking weapon whose silhouette Auron recognized. The metal was still black and pitted in places, but most of the surface had been burnished to a dull luster that seemed to soak up and devour all reflections. Apparently someone had labored to clean away as much rust and corrosion as possible. The long edges of the sword had been sharpened and honed, but the curves of its cruel-looking flanges had been left untouched, presenting ragged, serrated edges.

"Sir Auron," the young officer said with a fisted salute. "My men observed you practicing with this sword last night. We've tried our best to restore it. If you would care to--"

Auron lifted and lowered one shoulder in a shrug. "Keep it."

The Crusader's proud smile froze. "Sir?"

"It's your history, not mine." Auron turned away. "It belonged to Lord Mi'hen. I suggest you consider it an omen. Take good care of it."

There was a collective gasp from the squad, and the young captain bowed deeply. "Sir!" Before he could collect himself for a more eloquent reply, the taciturn swordsman was on the march again, and the rest of the Guardians were trotting after him. Rikku had her hands over her mouth, biting back laughter. Yuna lingered briefly to bow to the exulting yet crestfallen troops. "Thank you so much," she said in that soft voice that restored crests to their proper places.

"Good luck, Lady Yuna!" The soldiers' cheers and well-wishes followed them until they turned the corner at the top of the trail.

"'An omen'?" Lulu asked Auron drily.

He shrugged. "Strategic tact."

Rikku giggled. "Some gift! Somebody ground it so hard that it's a wonder there aren't holes right through it. It would take some pretty fancy magic to fix that thing." She grinned back at the dour Guardian, but thought better of whatever comparison she was about to make and skipped on ahead.

At last. They had come up on the south rim and headed for the rickety old bridge spanning the gorge. The ground rose higher on the far side, ascending in rolling leaps and bounds to join the lower slopes of the great mountain. Broad, frowning, mostly shrouded in clouds so that they could not see where Gagazet ended and sky began, it looked like an impenetrable wall from this distance. Lulu glided over the aged planks with head held high and eyes fixed upon their next opponent. She felt as if a gate had swung open and shut as she stepped off the bridge onto unknown soil.

Tidus had fallen behind along with Yuna, and the others paused in the narrow draw leading into the foothills to wait. The Summoner must be saving another memory, or saying farewell to one. Formerly, Lulu would have stood beside her with a gentle, "Take your time." She felt a pang of sympathy for the young man who was there today instead; he was beginning to understand Yuna's silences. Usually she would be monitoring them closely, but that would mean a farewell glimpse of the Calm Lands. She simply waited, readying herself for the rocky trail coiling out of sight on the forested slopes ahead.

As they topped the first rise, Wakka turned around and waved his arms. "Hey, Yuna! Whatcha doin' back there? Come on, we can't be guardin' ya if ya don't keep up! Get up here an' save me from dis heathen. She's sayin' all sorts of disrespectful things about blitzball."

Yuna laughed and hurried forward. "Coming!"

Rikku jiggled happily as her cousin took her place in the midst of her Guardians. "Well I'm _right_. The stadium's just one big machina, you know!"

"Keep your voices down," Lulu said automatically.

Auron glanced down and sideways at her as the others resumed their argument. "How are you feeling?" he whispered.

She shook her head. "Ask me tonight."

He nodded curtly and lengthened his stride, moving up to join Kimahri in front. Lulu wondered why for a moment until Tidus materialized at her elbow, his eyes following the retreating back of the older Guardian.

"I think he's avoiding me," Tidus confided bitterly. "The closer we get to Zanarkand--"

"One sword ahead, one sword behind, and the most versatile fighters in the middle. You know that, Tidus."

"Yeah, but--"

She shook her head. "Watch. Guard. That is today's task. Is this a question that will help you do those things?"

The young man sighed and gave her an irritated look. "No. It's about Zanarkand. We've got to decide what we're going to do before it's too late." He spread his hands. "Please, Lulu, you know as much as anybody besides Auron, and he won't tell me anything. You've got to help me and Rikku-- "

"Guard Yuna _now_, or she will never reach it. Tidus, I'm sorry, but this will have to wait. I need to focus."

"Sorry," he growled in that tone that said he was not. Blue eyes glared at her accusingly, but his anger bled away as he looked at her face. "Nevermind," he said, suddenly subdued. "Just... if you have any ideas..."

Lulu nodded, wishing she could taste that hope that fired him and Rikku. "Of course."

Tidus walked along beside her, giving Rikku a casual thumbs up when she looked back at him. Lulu barely noticed.

She felt like a closed flower that had confused night and day. A grey light cut through the hazy sky giving no warmth, casting few shadows, and colors were far more spare in this barren land. As they mounted Gagazet's outskirts in rolling rises, they came to forested slopes occupied by silent, strange dark trees with pole-like trunks, branches set in spokes, dark needles for foliage. Their wild resinous scent seemed to suit the lonely land. The trees grew more stunted as they climbed, and began to alternate with barren rocky fields of tumbled and chipped slate sifted off from the heights above in immense slides that must have been clattering down these slopes for more than a thousand years. Normally, the mage would have been drawn to this rarified, bleak environment so different from Besaid. Today, her surroundings and the breeze and flow of conversation among the other Guardians might as well have been playing in a murky sphere. She scanned diligently for signs of danger, but details had a way of blurring together like characters on a page.

It was not that the memories of last night were still gripping her. Yuna's gentle healing had soothed away the last vestiges of soreness. The sound of Auron's curt replies to the other Guardians had only twice triggered a jarring flashback hurling her momentarily against the rocks beside them, darkening her vision until she clenched both fists and clawed her way back to her present surroundings. Otherwise she had been able to leave horror behind in the gorge. But she felt a weary fatigue in her slender frame for the first time on this journey, as if all the leagues they had walked between Luca and Gagazet's foothills had caught up with her at once.

Maybe Tidus had noticed something amiss, for he had moved a few paces ahead of her, and did not meet her eyes when he looked back. Was he angry with her? Had she been short with him? She could not remember.

They were just entering another somber grove when fire and ice exploded around them. Tidus gave a cry and ran forward, lunging for the three-headed monstrosity that had detached itself from the shadow of a moss-covered boulder. Confused, Lulu answered with fire herself. The chimera gave a lusty yell but did not seem the least discomfited by its own element; if anything it was a sound of raw, primal pleasure. Tidus was making headway with his nimble-footed spin-and-swipe lunges until a clenched fist sent him flying. Wakka's spiked ball drew another roar as the blitzer took aim, and Rikku darted in fearlessly, uncorking some ghastly-smelling concoction that flashed and blinded them and set the fiend howling. Meanwhile Yuna dragged Tidus off to one side, and Kimahri and Auron swung back to plant themselves over her.

By the time Lulu had found her focus and launched the proper spell, Rikku's mad alchemy and Wakka's gung-ho ballistics had already sent the creature crashing to the ground. _Waterga_ splashed harmlessly over pyreflies.

There was a brief check while Yuna inspected Tidus for damage, a ritual that the other Guardians tolerated with patient smiles. Wakka and Rikku fanned out to scan the trees on either side of the path. Lulu kept watch over the party with hands folded.

Moving on, Auron thumped the Ronso's chest with his glove and waited for the rest of the party to file past. "Tidus, take front with Kimahri," he instructed curtly.

Swordsman and mage fell into step again, and there was no sign to show this was different from any other day when they held the rearguard with forbidding steel and magical blasts warding against unwanted pursuit. They exchanged no words, but Auron's glance was grim.

Gagazet. Twice now, Lulu had stopped before reaching it. She felt hollow inside as she gazed at Yuna's petite figure marching ahead of them, receding before her eyes.


	15. Desperate Measures

The wind gusting downslope had a decided bite to it and was picking up again when Yuna's party emerged from the trees onto a wide boulder-strewn bowl. A fresh slide must have covered the trail, but Kimahri bounded from rock to rock, cutting an unerring path across the featureless landscape of teetering loose stones. The others followed with care. Wakka offered Rikku an elbow with a requisite amount of grumbling, probably to cover the fact that the nimble Al Bhed was more surefooted, and was showing him where to set his feet. Tidus and Yuna proceeded hand in hand despite Auron's orders. Lulu was lagging behind, hindered by her skirts. Pacing beside her, Auron kept one arm firmly in his coat and the other hand balancing his sword across his shoulders, but Lulu suspected that he was shadowing her in case she stumbled.

He tilted his head towards the mage, eye flicking from Lulu's wan features to the blasted, lonely landscape around them. "Tired?"

She dipped her eyes. "A little."

"Perhaps you should switch with Rikku."

"One chimera is not a calamity!" she snapped, a little color coming into her cheeks. "Don't patronize me, Sir Auron. Remember whose Guardian you are."

Half a dozen rocks ahead, Wakka craned his head around to peer at them, brow knitted. Rikku turned as well, giving the older woman a merry wink. "Keep your voices down, remember?"

Lulu ignored both of them, and Auron seemed to ignore her. He had not missed a beat of his methodical routine: pause, circle, scan behind them, take five long strides to catch up, repeat at random intervals. However, within the last few days, he had added "glance at Lulu" to the pattern.

"You seemed very keen on leaving me with the Ronso," she observed under her breath.

The older Guardian grunted. "What I want has nothing to do with it. You're of little use to Yuna right now."

She arched an eyebrow at his phrasing. "You managed just fine with Sir Jecht, who surely had his off days."

"Lord Braska," he growled with surprising vehemence, "should have left Jecht in his cell."

Auron had just let something slip. Lulu sensed it, but her thoughts were too sluggish to see through the chinks in his brittle words.

Her brooding was cut short by a faint _clack_ somewhere on the slope above them, so familiar and yet incongruous that most of the party did not recognize the sound until Rikku squawked, "Get down!" Too tired to question, Lulu obeyed without thinking.

Not an instant too soon. Dust rose up in puffs, and chips of stone flew as a sheet of bullets exploded on all sides. The alien, blasphemous rattle of gunfire erupted across Gagazet's silent foothills and echoed from cliff to cliff. Lulu flung herself forward behind a shattered treetrunk half-buried in the rubble of an old slide. Auron staggered to his knees beside her: the slower-moving Guardian had not managed to reach cover before the deadly hail burrowed through his armor. Lulu grabbed his collar and yanked him unceremoniously to the ground, then cast about dazedly for the rest of the party. Tidus and Yuna were out of sight: she prayed that was a good sign. Rikku must have dragged Wakka down with her; Lulu could hear him cursing her and every rivet, gadget, and tool ever invented loudly enough to be audible above the barrage. Kimahri--

Lulu groaned inwardly, spotting the stoic Ronso doggedly hauling himself back over the rocks, trying to reach Yuna. Judging by the way he had hunkered down on all fours, he was probably shielding her. His white ruff was stained red, and blood was trickling down his arms. Lulu's stomach seethed. Who--?

"A welcoming party from Seymour," Auron growled through clenched teeth. "Can you take them out?"

At the best of times, that would be a tall order. Had the mage possessed that kind of power, the wedding in Bevelle might have come to an abrupt and ruthless end. But there was no time now to debate tactics. Lulu set a hand on the column of the fallen tree and eased upwards, trying to get the measure of their opponents without getting shot. A few long-limbed Guado lounged against boulders on the slope above -- curse them, it was bad enough that they had used fiends to do their dirty work in Macalania and Bikanel! The weapons-fire came from at least two dozen soldiers clad in the livery of the monastery, each one crouched down under the weight of a heavy rifle. Before Lulu could marshal some kind of magic, a near hit sent a jagged chunk of wood ricocheting into her cheek. She gave a faint cry and sank down again, cupping her hand to her face. Shaking her head as Auron reached for her, Lulu hissed between her teeth. "Minor."

The deadly rain of bullets abruptly ceased, and an unctuous voice rang out. "Summoner Yuna! You are commanded by Yevon to return to Bevelle at once to fulfill your vows."

Auron heaved himself to a sitting position. "It's difficult to wed with a death warrant on one's head," he rasped loudly.

Lulu drew her fingers into her sleeve to palm a healing potion. She bit off the cap, setting the vial to his lips. A delaying measure, at best.

The Guado laughed. "True enough! However, Lord Seymour has secured a pardon for the murder of Wen Kinoc. Maester Mika will rule it an unfortunate misunderstanding by over-zealous Guardians, provided that Lady Yuna returns with us at once."

A few of the warrior monks muttered audibly, and Lulu suspected that the over-zealous members of their order might take matters into their own hands shortly.

"I will not." Yuna had emerged from her hiding place behind the Ronso, standing straight and poised. Tidus hopped up and planted himself in front of her, sword braced as if he could somehow fend off the bullets. Lulu felt a desperate pang of pride for both of them. "Please, do not hinder me. I am on pilgrimage, and seek to defeat Sin for all of Spira, including yourselves!"

The sneering Guado made a gesture of dismissal. "Your Summoner's privilege has been made null and void by your actions. You have defiled your pilgrimage by defying the Maesters of Yevon and sowing confusion among Spira's citizens. Lord Seymour offers you two choices. Return to him willingly, and your Guardians will be spared. Otherwise, he will receive your corpse. Dead, you will have no further grounds to quibble with Lord Seymour's... condition."

"Ah, give me a break!" Wakka snapped angrily. "That's got to be against the teachings!"

"Sir Wakka is right!" Yuna pleaded, turning her attention to the warrior monks. "Listen to what you are hearing! Is this what you expect from a Maester of Yevon?"

"So say the murderers of a Maester of Yevon!" one of the monks shouted back.

Lulu's nails bit into the palm of her hand. The stinging pain of the shrapnel was a distraction, but it had helped shock her out of lethargy. In her mind's eye she recalled with loathsome clarity the unholy sight of the Guado Maester's lips crushed against Yuna's. Now her memory supplied further horrors of what might happen should the innocent Summoner fall into his clutches again. _Yuna will never know of such things._ Rising to her feet, the sorceress fixed cold eyes on the Guado who seemed to be in charge. Some of the rifles swung from Yuna towards the mage.

"What would Yojimbo have to say about this, I wonder?" Lulu called out icily, a message aimed at one pair of ears in particular. Auron shifted beside her. Feeling like a carrion-bird, she gripped his shoulder and glanced down, absorbing the set of his jaw, the blood pooling on the ground below his knees, his disciplined, even breaths. It could as easily be Yuna, and she did not have his stamina. And what of Kimahri? Fuming, she silently braided a mental noose of every last affront and injury.

"Silence!" the Guado thundered. "Lady Yuna, we expect your ans--"

Choked off in mid-sentence, the speaker toppled like an unseated tent-pole. A few paces away, a monk heaved forward across his weapon with a clatter and rolled down the slope. "Die," the sorceress found herself mouthing over and over as if the word were merely a component of breathing. In a pitiless trance, she watched them collapse one by one while bewildered comrades shouted the names of the stricken. Wakka's blitzball soared into the sudden chaos, striking down a few more.

Lulu found herself being yanked to the ground as a swarm of bullets erupted around her, but not before she saw the giant silhouette of a heavily-draped warrior and a flame-eyed hound materializing in the midst of their foes. Cries and screams quickly replaced the reports of gunfire. Lulu huddled against Auron, trembling, as the bitter haze of anger drained away. He put an arm around her and waited stoically for the sounds of carnage to fade to ominous silence, then brushed his mouth against her ear with a soft, "Good thinking." Releasing her, he heaved to his feet to take stock of the battlefield.

"We're clear," he called gruffly, adding under his breath, "Yojimbo's gone."

"Clear" proved to be an understatement. Shrouded in billowing dust, the entire slope was littered with strewn bodies that had been mauled or sliced in two. Lulu wished she could shield Yuna's eyes from the pitiful sight, although they had seen such horrors before on the Djose shore. For the moment, however, Yuna was busy tending the living. She and Rikku were working anxiously on Kimahri, the thief digging out bullets with thin pliers while the Summoner closed his dire wounds. Tidus stood over them, his own face rather pale as he searched the mountainside for other threats.

Wakka, also keeping watch, paced a wide circle and kicked in the dirt. He lifted his head and gave Lulu a haggard smile as they approached. "Hey. You two okay?"

She shook her head, hand still cupped against her cheek to slow the bleeding. "Sir Auron was hit."

"Get in line!" Rikku sang out cheerfully. "We'll fix it."

"Whoah, Lu," Wakka said softly, beckoning Lulu over. "Lemme have a look at dat. Tidus, keep your eyes open, ya?"

The young man stepped back from the field surgery with a nod and a raised fist. "Roger!"

Lulu wordlessly allowed Wakka to tend her while Auron looked on, leaning heavily on the hilt of his sword. The blitzer was surprisingly gentle as he extracted the large splinter, rinsed the wound with his canteen, and applied a healing salve to stop the bleeding. She noticed that he was using one of Rikku's odd concoctions now. "Damned Guado," he grumbled. "I can't believe they thought we'd fall for dat, after all the crap Seymour's put us through!"

"Apparently, Seymour thinks Yuna's will is strong enough that she might linger as an Unsent," Auron observed flatly.

"No way," Tidus said indignantly. "That's crazy! Yuna would never--"

"Hey, well, she's pretty tough, ya?" Wakka said glumly.

Lulu cut in. "We won. They failed. There's no point in discussing it."

"Yeah," Rikku said, rocking back on her heels and inspecting the Ronso with head cocked. "That's just gross. Hey, Kimahri, did we miss any? You look like an accident with a drillpress."

"How do you feel?" Yuna asked, laying a petite hand on her Guardian's shaggy arm.

"Yuna safe; Kimahri fine," the gentle giant rumbled warmly, standing and stretching. "Thanks also to Rikku."

"Then I'd... better start the Sending." Pyreflies were beginning to waft and spin around them. "Rikku, do you think you can take care of Sir Auron?"

"No problem!" the Al Bhed chirped. She hopped to her feet. "Now where's Mr. Cranky? Let me see. Ugh, take your armor off, it's probably all sticky under there."

Yuna took up her staff and began to ascend the slope with head bowed. A thought struck Lulu as she watched the hypnotic meanders of the pyreflies drifting towards the Summoner in greeting. "Rikku, Auron," the mage said in a low voice. "Get under cover. You could be a distraction to Yuna."

"Hunh?" Rikku said, peering over at her.

Auron shrugged stiffly and moved off towards the pile of debris where he and Lulu had taken shelter. "Come."

Rikku's chatter faded away, and the others turned to watch Yuna's dance in respectful silence. There was no achingly beautiful sunset this time, only the bitter wind, grey sky, and barren rocks splashed with red. Even the Summoner's graceful movements seemed more subdued. One by one, flashes of light spiraled upwards, following the loops of her staff, and faded into empty air. Lulu watched, erect and silent, noting the sprawled form of each of those she had killed as Yuna twirled past them. The Summoner's feet seemed firmly rooted to the rock, and tears streaked her cheeks as she brought her staff down in a final sweep, then raised it before her face in farewell.

Tidus hurried over to her as she picked her way back down to them. "Hey, Yuna. They were the bad guys, remember? He said they'd spare us, but really, they were sent here to kill us."

"And... we killed them." Yuna's voice was filled with dread. "What kind of Summoner defies the temple, strikes down Maesters, wipes out even ordinary followers of Yevon? Nothing makes sense."

"Yuna not to blame." Kimahri rumbled. "They use machina weapons, fire on Summoner: defile sacred mountain. Yuna speak for Gagazet, not only for Yuna."

"I...suppose." Yuna was still standing with her staff dangling in her hands, twirling it listlessly in her fingers. She raised her eyes, seeking reassurance from the silent woman watching with arms wrapped around herself.

Lulu stirred, but words did not come easily: it could just as well be Luzzu among those littering the slope above them, or even Chappu. While she hesitated, Wakka also turned towards her with a subtle but unmistakable plea. Did they think she could snap her fingers and make everything right? The sorceress sighed. "If we had not defended ourselves, some warrior monk would be agonizing over having slain Braska's daughter and her Guardians. Would that be any better?" Gliding forward, she drew Yuna into a somber embrace. "We had no choice. Remember Operation Mi'hen, Kinoc and Jyscal. Seymour means to use you, Yuna-- and Sin too, apparently -- to secure his power and destroy Spira. We must keep those two weapons out of his grasp, or many more will die."

The Summoner bit her lip as Lulu's words sank in. "If... I bring the Calm, someone will still have to deal with him."

"One thing at a time," Auron interrupted, boots crunching as he trudged back to rejoin the party with Rikku sauntering at his side. "Sin first. And it's time we were leaving."

Yuna nodded. "Yes. Lead the way, Kimahri."

"Hey, Lu," Wakka said, tucking his blitzball under his arm and falling into step beside her as they moved off. "You feelin' a little better now, ya?"

"Perhaps." She cast a quick glance over her shoulder. Auron looked solid enough. She let out the breath she had been holding. "Yes."


	16. Sacred Stone

Like Sin, nightmares had a way of returning.

_"I have cast aside Yevon! I will follow the temple no more!"_

"Then you will die by these words!"

Brave. Rash. Indomitable. Yuna stood unbowed before the circle of bristling Ronso on whom she and her friends had fastened vain hopes. Maybe they had been lulled into too much trust by Kimahri himself, a pillar and a rock to the three from Besaid for ten years. Perhaps they had counted too much on the rumor that Maester Kelk, the Ronso leader, had turned his back on the other Maesters after Yuna's trial for treason. In fact, they had no other choice: Kimahri's people had been defending the pass over Gagazet as long as Summoners had been coming this way, and there was no other certain route to Zanarkand. Footsore and exhausted as they were, they were ill-prepared to find the sacred mountain's protectors barring their way. But there was no turning back now. Lulu drifted in next to Auron's shoulder while Wakka, of all people, shot off his mouth heaping blistering scorn upon the Teachings. Tidus and Rikku backed up his defiance with cheers and jeers. Kimahri might have put in a calmer word, but he was locked in a tense staredown with a hulking Ronso warrior who seemed to have some personal grudge against him. Sir Auron's stance shifted slightly; he was getting his feet firmly set under himself. It was small comfort, very small, to have him beside her for the coming battle.

Lulu flexed her hands. A good strong Thundaga would feel very satisfying right about now. But more Ronso heads and silhouettes were appearing over the rocky outcroppings around them at every moment. If she chose the path of bloodshed again, Yuna could not possibly afford Yojimbo's price -- their foes were too many.

Foes? Lulu almost regretted teaching the young Summoner to stand up for herself. Was this the end of Yuna's journey, dying in battle with Yevon's own, whom she had pledged her life to save?

_"So be it. We have no regrets."_

No regrets? Not one?

"Lord Kelk Ronso, if I may?" To her astonishment, Lulu found her voice calm and level. "Have you not also turned your back on Bevelle?"

Gently, courteously, she attempted a diplomacy better suited to Yuna's gentle nature, a strange reversal. But the mage was tired, so tired of betrayals, and she had seen enough blood on the stones of Gagazet for one day. Sir Auron chimed in at once, backing her up with his own measured words: did the Ronso leader not see that Yuna's defiance of the temples mirrored his own disgust with the politics in the capital?

It worked. Dear Yevon (not that Yevon felt very dear right now) there was still someone left in Spira who could think for himself. If there were more time, perhaps Maester Kelk could oblige Wakka with a few pointers. The aged leader hesitated, reconsidered, and in the end gave way before the determined young Summoner, praising her steel-tempered will. A few timely words by her Guardians hadn't hurt either.

It felt like a victory. Why was Lulu still waiting for the mountain to fall as the dour Ronso led Yuna's party back to a spacious rock-hewn cave, traditionally set aside for Summoners and their Guardians? Perhaps she had grown so accustomed to ambushes by now that this one's postponement felt like a breach of hospitality.

Nevertheless, Yuna and her friends were pleasantly delighted to find the Ronso as fierce in hospitality as in defense. Food and drink were brought to them in stone bowls and goblets. Rugs, tallow candles, and low stools were scattered around the broad chamber, heated by a ceramic brazier set in the center. The cave's natural columns had been carved with prayers for the Summoners' good fortune. Against some of the uneven walls, cunning channels had been cut to let milky water flow down into mosaic basins, where flow-stone had been allowed to form iridescent spires. The candles were set in high niches here and there around the walls, glistening off wet stone. Yuna's Guardians gratefully shed packs and weapons and settled down to the feast provided. The Ronso attendants bowed, swung shut the heavy front door of metal and hide, and left them alone as the last grey light faded from the sky outside.

Dinner conversation turned from the day's challenges to tomorrow's, and Lulu remained tucked on a stool near Yuna long enough to offer her store of knowledge on the fiends they were likely to encounter. A debate about the best attacks for bombs and flans and floating eyes quickly turned tiresome. Lulu gathered her bowl and drink and retreated to the shadows of a steep spiral stairwell, cut in the far corner of the room, which doubled as a chimney. Finishing her meal in silence, her attention was drawn to scrawls and inscriptions cut into the soft stone beside the stairs. They appeared to be names, some newly-carved, some encased in translucent stone like glass and beginning to fade. Her lips parted in awe at two words deeply-graven into the wall near her elbow.

_Lady Yocun. Lilith. _

The sorceress arched an eyebrow. "Of course," she murmured under her breath, and leaned sideways to scan some of the other mementos of heroes long gone.

"Hey, Lu, whatcha found?" Wakka asked, setting his bowl on the floor and peering towards her.

"Graffiti from past travelers, it seems."

"Oh, neat!" Rikku dropped her bowl with a clatter and hopped to her feet, pattering over. Lulu smiled inwardly, although she chided herself for drawing their attention. The others quickly piled in behind Rikku, except for Auron, lounging by the front door, and Kimahri, who was sharpening his spear-blade with single-minded attention on the far side of the chamber. The rear of the room was suddenly very crowded.

"Hey," Tidus said, pointing at a flowing, almost vinelike script down near Rikku's hip. "That doesn't say 'Seymour,' does it?"

"What the?" Wakka squatted and peered past the wriggling Al Bhed, forgetting his wariness for a moment. "Nah, can't be."

"I'm afraid it can," Yuna said thoughtfully, faint sorrow in her eyes.

Lulu shared an oblique glance with her. "That Aeon," the mage said slowly, realization dawning. "You said it was surprisingly powerful."

Yuna dipped her head in confirmation.

"What?" Tidus asked, straightening and peering between them. He rubbed the back of his neck, brows knitted. "So... Seymour's a Summoner?"

"Obviously," Lulu returned icily, dropping back into familiar patterns of speech out of habit more than ire. "Or did you fail to notice the Aeon that nearly destroyed us in Macalania? 'Anima,' he called it. Yuna did not recognize it. It came from none of the temples we have visited so far. Which means--"

"Oh, wow," Rikku said, gulping. "That thing was a _Final_ Aeon?"

"Apparently so."

Wakka shook his head. "Can't be, Lu. We beat it. I mean, if it's supposed to be strong enough to defeat Sin, it should've smeared us into fish paste, ya?"

"Then we're strong enough already!" Tidus crowed, thumping the older athlete's shoulder and failing to notice Yuna's quiet head-shake.

"Yeah!" Rikku said hopefully, picking up on his excitement. "Exactly! And that means Yunie won't have to--"

Auron's gravelly voice cut in across the chamber. "The strength of some Aeons varies according to their use as much as their Summoner. Isn't that right, Yuna?"

She nodded, brushing her braid back apologetically. "Right. I guess... Seymour wasn't using it against Sin, and perhaps it was confused about being turned on ordinary people instead of Fiends."

"Oh. Yeah." Tidus' face clouded up. "Which is just totally twisted, right? I always knew he was--" he paused, noticing Yuna's pained expression. "Bad," he finished lamely. He smiled apologetically and gave her shoulder a light squeeze. "Hey, at least we didn't have to fight the Ronso."

Lulu folded her arms with a sigh. Something had caught her eye, and she had been debating whether to mention it. Coming to a decision, she tapped a violet nail against a trio of words carved near the ceiling, apart from most of the other inscriptions. "Yuna, Tidus," she interrupted gently.

All of them fell silent as Yuna stood on tiptoe and touched her fingertips to a name neatly incised by a priest's hand. It was not "Lord Braska," "Braska of Bevelle," nor even "Summoner Braska". Modest as ever, he had written his name and nothing more, the only record of his passing. His daughter's eyes glimmered in the candlelight, and Rikku slipped her arms around her cousin's waist comfortingly. Tidus stood behind with a crestfallen expression, probably wishing himself in Rikku's place.

"Yunie..." Rikku said wistfully.

"It's all right," Yuna murmured, patting her hand. "It's a sign, you know? Even if I've been following my father all the way, it's nice to... be able to see his footprints."

The Al Bhed girl's brow furrowed, but she wisely did not ruin the moment by protesting that a slight detour might be in order.

Noticing the half-finished name below Jecht's, Lulu sought Auron's gaze across the dim chamber. He shrugged, then glanced towards the stairwell and jerked his chin upwards. She arched an eyebrow, curiosity roused.

"Heee--ey, will you look at dat," Wakka interrupted, scratching the back of his neck and craning his head to peer at a strange jagged squiggle chipped in the wall to the left of Jecht's name. "Tidus, what is dat thing, anyway?"

Tidus glanced down at the necklace he wore and grinned. "Zanarkand Abes! What did I tell you, Wakka? My old man must've put it there."

"That's right," Yuna smiled. "Sir Jecht. He had it tattooed across his chest."

"Show off," Tidus muttered.

"Well, then," Rikku said brightly, fishing into her toolbag. Slipping away from Yuna, she moved around and through her friends, hunting for one of the few spots on the wall that did not already bear an inscription. Pulling up her goggles and setting a drill against the rock, she gave an exploratory tap with a hammer. _Tink, tink..._

Ignoring her, Tidus turned around. "Hey, Auron! Why didn't you sign your own name? Looks like my old man only got halfway through it."

_Tink, tink, tink..._

"Will ya knock that off?" Wakka said irritably, glaring at the girl.

"Shush, don't make me mess up," Rikku replied cheerfully, not looking up. "How d'ye spell 'Summoner' again?"

_Tink, tink, tink, tink..._

"That is why," Auron said, glowering pointedly in Rikku's direction.

Lulu pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling the first outriders of a headache coming on. Seven warm bodies packed in somewhat close quarters would be claustrophobic even on better days, and the heavy stone roof made her feel as if the mountain was pressing down on them. "I think I'm going to take a walk," she murmured.

"Lulu," Yuna said warningly, reaching out and catching her sleeve.

The mage sighed, supposing she deserved it for last night. "I'm not leaving the village, Yuna."

"Kimahri go too," the Ronso announced abruptly. "Keep watch."

Guessing she could not win, and morbidly curious whether the heavyset Ronso could fit up a spiral stair obviously hewn with humans in mind, the sorceress nodded. "Very well," she said quietly. "Come."

~ * ~

Kimahri's shaggy feet kicked up a thin dusting of snow coating the rocks. He had fit up the narrow winding passage of the stair ahead of her, barely, and Lulu had been grateful for the assurance, since it was dark and cold and sooty in that narrow chimney. They had emerged on the bluff above the Ronso village -- or rather, overlooking the empty cleft of the trail running through it, since his people made their homes by tunneling into the knees of the mountain they worshiped.

He seemed to be leading her somewhere. They seldom shared speech when hunting together, and she was content to follow as they used to when he was tracking the scent of game. The shadowy, brooding clouds piled low against the heights, the heavy shoulders of the mountain looming above them. The starkness of the rocks seemed to suit him. The silence was restful, and helped her set aside the day's unsettling battles and the darker struggles of the night before.

A tang of sulfur on the air made her curious. Was it warmer up here, or was she beginning to get used to the chill breath flowing down from Gagazet's peak?

Rounding a knee of rock, Kimahri halted, leaning on his spear. Below, held back by a retaining wall that had been built so long ago that it looked to be part of the mountain, a broad pool larger than the cavern where they were lodged curved along the perimeter of the cliff. Clouds of steam were rising from the surface, and carved stone steps led down to it. A faint glimmer of phosphorescence lit the water from below. Kimahri pointed to a pile of blankets and towels set out on a stone bench by the edge of the pool.

Lulu exhaled. "Now that," she said softly, "is what I call civilized. Thank you, Kimahri." She had not enjoyed a proper bath since that night at Rin's. She felt an almost violent shudder of relief: she had been suffering an irrational urge to scrape off her outer layer of skin for the last twenty-four hours, and a hot soak might help. The burly Guardian inclined his head and withdrew.

Struggling out of her clothes and unpinning her hair, the sorceress found her way to the water's edge and sat for a moment on the lip, drawing her legs against herself and letting the icy air cool her white skin. She gazed back across the foothills and the dark shadow of the Calm Lands stretching to the horizon beyond. Bevelle was somewhere back there, Djose and Kilika, and the sweet backwater island home they would probably not live to see again.

She cupped her hands in prayer and bowed, not certain why.

Shaking her head, she set a toe in the warm water and carefully eased into the pool. Glorious heat enveloped her. Taking a deep breath, Lulu propped her shoulders against the steps (carved for human frames, she noticed) and closed her eyes, letting thoughts, worries, and stains float away and dissolve in Gagazet's sacred waters.


	17. Heated Words

_Silhouetted against the sky  
You thought I couldn't see  
The weariness in your eye  
Or how you watched over me  
And yearned._

Lulu lay lapped upon the the steaming water, surrounded by a graceful fan of braids floating just below the surface. Her body spun slowly. She was not a gifted swimmer like Wakka, but the islanders were at home in water as well as land. Soaking up their native element, she tried to let her spirit float free. _Breathe. Smell the slight tang of the hot springs, and the crisp scent of the snow behind it. Fire and ice. _

Gagazet thrust up at her back almost a league into the sky. She could feel its unimaginable mass like the great solid deeps of the ocean beyond Besaid's necklaces of sand. Air and earth too, then: she felt herself lapped by all the elements except lightning's flash. That, she would normally be able to supply.

The mage's eyelids drifted closed in surrender. There would be time enough for that tomorrow. Half asleep with water lapping over her ears, Lulu failed to hear the faint scuff of snow or a slow tread upon the rocky steps.

~ * ~

Auron halted on the stair to drink in the view. It was worth the longer climb from the valley floor (he had left by the front door on an errand to the smithy, as far as the others were concerned), and he had always preferred high places. The hot springs formed a narrow shelf like the irrigated fields marching up the hillsides outside Bevelle. Beyond the retaining wall, the world stretched out in grey lumps and pools of shadow, barely illumined by the smudge of moon shrouded in its silver cocoon by low banks of cloud. Far away, beyond the somber foothills, beyond the gorge and flat lake of black that was the Calm Lands, there came a grey-steel glimmer of distant ocean. The panorama beckoned him to lose himself in its lonely expanse, but a vision floating just beyond his feet drew his attention downwards and rooted him in his tracks.

From his vantage point, Lulu resembled one of the statues of the fayth caught beneath a glassy dome, light pulsing softly beneath her pale limbs. The soft islands of her belly and her breasts and the square firm silhouette of her face shone the same blue-gray as the snow, in contrast to the faint greenish-gold light emanating from her body hanging suspended beneath the surface. Silently, hypnotically, she turned in a slow spiral. Steam drifted across her, blurring without obscuring her curves. All around her haunting figure, glassy ripples spread out and divided, weaving complex patterns as they bounded off the lip of the retaining wall. Watching her softened braids whirling around her in a stately, drifting web, Auron was once again reminded of Shiva. Right now, even the Aeon seemed drab.

A gleam of pyreflies drifting up from his sleeve snapped him back to the present, and he smiled grimly. _Pay attention._ This would be a fine time to forget all the disagreeable reasons and burning oaths that kept him here.

Reluctant to disturb the precious tableau before him, the swordsman crouched down at the water's edge and forced himself to call her name.

With a gasp, Lulu rolled over and swung her legs downward, twisting around in the water to face him. "I was beginning to wonder if I had misunderstood," she murmured, taking a few strokes to bring herself closer until her toes touched bottom.

"You looked comfortable." _Comfortable_ did not really begin to describe it, but Auron was not in the habit of being lyrical. "May I join you, or would you rather be alone?"

"Idiot," the mage replied fondly. She slapped the water next to her invitingly. "I was waiting for you."

"Hmph." He moved to the bench to disrobe before her heavy-lidded gaze. She folded her forearms on the rim of the pool, resting her chin upon her wrists. His breastplate was absent --being repaired, probably -- and the puckered fresh skin of a half-dozen gunshot wounds marred the smooth muscles along his left side when he moved. Despite or because of the new and faded scars, his muscular frame had the polished, pitted beauty of old driftwood. Lulu felt considerably more awake when he shucked his trousers and stalked towards the water, pausing again to gaze down at her.

"What?" She raised her head from her arms with a splash.

"I suppose you realize how beautiful you are," Auron observed matter-of-factly, settling on the edge and easing his legs into the lapping water. His aching sinews relaxed into the heat.

"Mm." She splayed her steaming fingers lightly against his stomach, so that her hand traveled up his chest as he lowered himself into the pool beside her. "And I suppose you don't." The warm caress of his jaw clarified whom she meant.

The swordsman shook his head. They drifted together, greeting each other with soft, silent touches that needed no words. Lulu still flinched sometimes when his calloused hands skirted her breasts or the dip of her waist. However, Auron was profoundly gentle, avoiding confining her in any way until she gathered his hands over her breasts and held them there, stroking the backs of his wrists with her fingertips. They circled into the deeper water. The sorceress trembled when his fleeting kisses turned more insistent and his tongue thrust into her mouth, but she would not let him pull away. Skin slid against skin, and the tendrils of her hair glided around his shoulders. At last they came to rest with Lulu's back nestled against his chest and Auron's arms circling her loosely, while he braced the toes of one foot against the bottom to keep them from sinking.

"Lulu." His lips had come to rest against the side of her cheek. "I should apologize."

"I thought we had agreed not to apologize for... Yojimbo's surprises."

Her wording drew a pained chuckle and a light squeeze. "Agreed. But you were right this morning. I was too hasty. I wanted to leave you here." He paused, imagining her indignant expression. "Safe."

"Oh, Auron." She stroked the top of a foot against his calf. "Well, I _was_ struggling today. But yours is the wrong reason to leave me behind, and you know it."

"Is it?" A wet kiss tickled her ear. "Yuna is well-endowed with Guardians. One more or less--"

"May make the difference!" the sorceress interrupted, rocking in his arms as she forgot where she was and made a slashing gesture with her hand. "Weren't you paying attention?"

"I saw." Auron sighed, breath cooling her cheek. "I know. Yuna will need your wisdom in Zanarkand."

"So, what you're really saying is," Lulu continued more gently, twining her feet with his legs, "I have become a distraction to the legendary hero. I suppose I should be flattered."

"Yes." His self-deprecating chuckle did not fool her; the older Guardian sounded as weary as she had ever known him to be. Yojimbo had touched him too, after all. "You must understand, Lulu. Ten years ago, there was nothing I could do to keep Lord Braska alive. Last night, being unable to help you, being turned against you..." his arms tightened around her.

"But that won't happen again," she said vehemently, feeling an uneasy twist of nausea deep inside.

Auron was silent, inhaling her scent and the hot steam. The weight of secrets was getting heavier each day, and he had been slipping lately, preparing them for the shock they were soon to face. But this, also, was the wrong reason to be telling her the rest. There was still a faint hope it would not come to that. The problem was, he had long ago ceased to rely on hope, along with Yevon.

"Auron?" she prodded quietly, stirring against him.

Jecht had not killed him after all: the chains of Sin took time to bite into a proud heart and render it docile to Yevon's will. Auron tasted that bitter thought and saved it for later. "Just be careful," he said finally. "After losing Jecht and Braska, I had no idea... I should ever wish to go on living." The light kiss against the corner of her eye, coupled with the subtle admission, drew a faint whimper from her, and almost he regretted saying it. "I was enraged. No matter what happens, Lulu, don't make the same mistake. Yuna needs you to help her defeat Sin. She doesn't need you to die."

The strained silences between his words held secrets that prickled Lulu's suspicions, and her nails bit into his arms in a silent reproach: something was hidden there, just as they had put off telling Tidus the truth about the pilgrimage. _Auron, what are you planning?_ But she did not ask. The gaps were like holes punched in his armor, and she sensed there was little use in fishing in the wounds: he would bleed before he told her what had caused them. "I mean to see Yuna's Calm," she said firmly. "But I also intend to give my Summoner whatever she needs to bring it about. I have no doubt that the legendary Sir Auron will be able to keep his mind on his duties, when the time comes."

He gave another soft snort, concealing his dismay. "A challenge?"

"If you like." Her grip on his arms eased, and she tipped her head back against his shoulder, wet hair sticking to his chin. "Enough. We're chewing on worry, and we both know that's pointless. Is there anything else you can tell me to help us prepare for Gagazet or Zanarkand?"

Auron shook his head.

"Then..." Lulu murmured, voice growing husky as her hand glided back to his elbow, down the ladder of his ribs, over a scarred hip and in, brushing across his groin.

He growled at her ear. "Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"You'll make it 'all right,'" she insisted, gazing upwards with want and sadness and trust and anger all tangled together; he could feel his body stirring in answer. "I absolutely refuse to let Yojimbo rob us of this, too."

The warrior turned her in his arms with a splash, cradling her loosely and finding all thoughts knocked to pieces by the sight of her wanton _I can take you_ expression, with full lips parted and tongue tucked coyly in the corner of her mouth.

"Lulu, I..."

Her breath caught, and Lulu made a sudden lunge for his mouth. He didn't understand, but understanding was hardly needed just now. Taking her urgency for permission, Auron bore down on her with hot, forceful kisses, dragging her towards the slightly shallower water so that he wouldn't drown her. Yielding, she felt a heady sort of triumph.

_Lulu. I. Those two words side by side on his lips, a sound worth keeping in a sphere._


	18. Venus

A/N: For optimum reading experience, I suggest popping in the FFX "Ending Theme" track if you've got it handy, since that's what I was using to write this.

Pale gold steam drifted in clumps and billows over the pool's surface, rising from reddened skin. Auron stood rooted in the shallows, arms loosely encircling Lulu's hips as she floated against him trailing kisses like fluttering leaves across his cheeks. The suspended coils of her braids circled around them. If Lulu did not wind up netting him it would be a wonder.

"Is that a problem?" the mage purred languidly at his ear.

Auron snorted and unwrapped his arm, swirling the water gently to swing the unravelling carpet of black tendrils behind her shoulderblades. "That depends on whether you mind calling someone to cut us loose. Tidus, for example?"

"Hm. Point taken."

Idle conversation faded as they feinted and bumped against each other, reconsecrating secrets that the stolen Fayth had defiled. Lulu kept one hand clamped on his shoulder to keep from sinking. The sorceress' amber eyes were half-closed. Hot steam clinging to her cheeks trickled downwards in rivulets, dripping from the black ribbons of hair across her face. She looked ravishing and ravishable, rising out of the water in a splash of pale moon-curves, her naked form glimmering below the waterline like Macalania blossoms. Yet Auron found himself clasping only her beauty, not _her_. More than her eyes were shuttered.

The swordsman eased his hand over her fingers digging into his shoulder. "Lulu. You're still fighting him."

"No!" A stormy scowl twisted her features. Steam rising from her inflamed skin served to emphasize her indignation. "Auron, don't you dare--"

Something in his strained expression, the tightness around his good eye, reminded Lulu of his stoic silence during the day's battle, persevering with bullets lodged in his side. She wilted abruptly. "I'm sorry." Stroking his jaw with a fingernail, she admitted in a guarded mutter, "I hate this."

"I know." Auron skipped a light kiss across her cheekbone. "Perhaps it would be wiser for you to rest. Do you want to go back?"

"Auron--"

"To the others, Lulu." His arms tightened around her hips, unwittingly sending her a quite different signal.

"And lose our last chance?" Her hand snaked its way down his throat, tracing a meandering path until her fingers nestled over his heart where he had placed them during their last ill-fated encounter. "Zanarkand is only a few days away, and Yuna will require our full attention from here on. I assume you will be leaving us as soon as her business there is finished." She paused, steeling herself for his subtle nod. "I wanted to give you tonight, Auron."

"A gift for yourself as well?" he rumbled wryly.

"Of course. But--" she scaled his body to deposit another reverent kiss against his sealed eye-- "you've given so much. Please. Make the most of the time you have left."

"Hmph." Auron dropped his gaze, pleasantly distracted by the gleam of her white breasts and shoulders adorned with nothing more than clear ripples. "Braska said the same thing."

"Lord Braska was a wise man." With a melancholy smile, she twined her limbs around his chest and thighs, smooth skin gliding across scars as her fingers began to work his sore muscles with firm, deft strokes. Auron groaned and yielded to her sensuous ministrations, responding with ragged kisses lavished over every part of her that he could reach. Lulu tensed under the delicious bombardment but refused to shy away, chasing his lips when he straightened to give her a moment's respite.

"Are you sure you still trust me?" he queried bluntly.

Obstinate as ever, the sorceress laced her fingers with his and waited for her racing heart to subside. It was difficult to tell whether the hammering pulse between their hands was one heartbeat or two. She hesitated, then lowered her voice to a hypnotic whisper that seemed to emanate as much from the curling steam as her own slender frame. "Auron. Last night, just before Wakka revived me, I found myself in a vivid dream. We were back on the docks in Kilika, where Yuna performed a Sending a few days before you joined us." Her silken voice could not fully convey the swirling energies of a Summoner's dance bridging the gap between life and death, but Auron's grip tightened as she spoke. "You and I stood on the water's brink as if it were solid glass. Yuna danced the Sending around us. Our friends kept vigil, and white gulls were singing the Hymn of the Fayth. It was a celebration, Auron, although it was a farewell. Every color, every sound, every scent was richer and more vibrant than the deepest magic I know. We held each other just like this, and then--" The mage's last words melted into another ardent kiss that eclipsed mere dreams.

Eventually Auron wrenched himself away, regarding her with sober compassion. "You said there was nothing between us."

Violet lips curled into a rueful smile. "I suppose I may have been mistaken." Her fingertips teased the corner of his mouth until he succumbed to a smirk. "Does that trouble you?"

"It is... fine." Auron lifted her knuckles to his lips, capturing her gaze with a brooding intensity that belied his mild words. Lulu's breath caught in anticipation.

Shaking his head, he steered her into the shallows, leaning past her to retrieve a folded towel and place it on the pool's rim. Molding her with his hands, he coaxed her to lie back and stretch out with her head and shoulders pillowed on the simple cushion. Quietly he lifted her hair in dripping handfuls and arranged it on the polished stone flags, combing it smooth with his fingers. Finally, his palm slipped under the small of her back, steadying her. "Comfortable?"

"Mmm." Lulu's body swayed gently, cradled by warm water and the heel of his hand. She reached down to splay her fingers against the top step for extra balance. "I think so."

"Then relax." Unhurriedly he began to suckle her shoulder, her neck, the swell of one breast, breathing heavily against her wet skin between kisses. "Remember, Lulu, you're still in control."

She gasped as his teeth closed lightly around a nipple, tongue circling. "Thank you," she replied huskily.

The swordsman grazed her curves in a meandering path, allowing the movement of the water to carry her beneath him like a drifting raft of lilies. Fingers and lips glided across her heated skin with a delicacy that would once have astonished her. Occasionally he scooped hot water over her when her flesh began to cool. Above his bowed shoulders, the moon glided in and out of its dark cocoon of clouds until she felt as if she were flying instead of floating. Moonlight and the hot spring's faint luminescence painted the planes of his face and upper body like graven marble, and tiny silvered beads of water clung to his skin. Lulu lay gazing up at him with a weary smile, half expecting him to dissolve into pyreflies. A few intimate caresses over her breasts made her stiffen, but he was being so profoundly gentle that it was not long before she was rocking involuntarily, throat arched and body spread loosely in mute invitation, answering every touch with mewling sighs. Auron growled back, evidently enjoying the feast she was offering up to him.

There was a splash, and Lulu felt his tongue lapping at her from underneath for a moment before he stood up between her legs, draping them over his shoulders. "Maybe," he remarked with a feral chuckle that would have melted her knees had she been standing, "you're a little _too_ relaxed." He paused to survey her voluptuous form, stubbled cheeks resting against her inner thighs.

The mage reached down, swept her fingers through his dripping ponytail and drew him against herself with a sultry whisper. "I believe you're right." Her eyes fluttered closed again with a moan when he nuzzled the wet fur between her legs, tongue burrowing inward. This field was new to him, and Auron quickly set about exploring. He was far from quiet, suckling her noisily as she shuddered against his mouth. Water sloshed over the sides of the pool, mimicking their movements. He might still be learning her hidden landscape by touch and by the pitch of her whimpers, but Lulu was soon far too aroused to notice any signs of inexperience. Suddenly she realized that his fingers had joined his tongue, working her within while his mouth ravished her. Their rolling, soothing strokes were very different from the fierce torture he had teased her with in the past.

She felt only the briefest surge of nausea. Yojimbo had been a brutal intruder, callously ignoring her resistance. Auron made love with the same dynamic knowledge of the body that served him in combat, responding to the most minute signals of panting breath or shifting hips.

Opening her eyes, she gazed downward, drinking in the sight of his dark head framed between her breasts. Some time ago, the hand that had been supporting her lower back had dropped away. From his harsh breathing and the rippling movements of his shoulder under her left knee, she guessed why.

"Auron." How many times had she moaned his name tonight? Another wracked cry overtook her as his tongue fluttered exquisitely just _there_. "Auron, wait. Don't you want more?"

A provocative lick made her squirm so much that she was in danger of slipping off his shoulders. "You are sure?"

"Absolutely," she whispered. "One last time. For both of us."

Auron's gruff rumble vibrating against her sex was enough to curl her toes. He raised her carefully, one hand sliding up her back to massage her neck as he pulled her towards him with a splash. Carrying her, Auron skipped back along the uneven bottom of the pool until they were in deeper water. Smiling, Lulu curled her arms and legs around him and allowed herself to sink downwards until she felt his erection pressing against her. She arched her eyebrows invitingly, fighting the urge to sheathe him with one wild thrust or twist away and lunge for the shore. There was so little margin sometimes between swimming and drowning.

Kissing her cheeks, Auron clung to her upper arms to steady her, then eased into her with a swallowed groan. Lulu bit her lip, fixing her gaze on _his_ face, only his, taking deep breaths until her body relaxed. They began to rise and fall against each other, luxuriating in the slow glide of firm flesh sliding into flesh as lovers might drink in every subtle shift of color in a lyrical sunset. There was no rough play, no jockeying for power this time, no teasing challenge, only a rolling dance of pleasure to the timeless tune of soft murmurs, grunting breaths.

"No tears," he reminder her hoarsely, noticing that her cheeks were glistening from more than just steam.

_How did he know? _ Lulu dissolved into breathless laughter, but it faded quickly-- their bodies were speaking in that profound communion where ordinary sounds seemed banal. She felt as if she were dreaming again. Gradually their plunging give-and-take quickened, until both were gasping on a river of upwelling rapture that slowly overwhelmed them. Neither one marked the moment when the cresting wave finally spilled over, when the duet of groans and cries reached a crescendo, or when it began to wane. They only knew that when at last they came back to their senses and their bodies wrapped around one another, they had somehow drifted to the far side of the pool. Time, for at least a little while, had hovered and slowed without magic's aid.

Prompted by sudden longing, Lulu looked up to capture and preserve an image of his face, yearning to memorize every last contour of bone and muscle, shadow, scar, and graying hair. She found Auron's gaze riveted on her features as if he was doing the same.

They were still rocking together slowly, suspended on each other's smiles and prolonging the last warm tinglings of lovemaking, when a jarring voice cut through the spell.

"Yo, Kimahri, have you seen Lulu?" Tidus was apparently speaking some distance off, but he sounded disconcertingly loud in the clear night air.

Lulu had to bite down on Auron's shoulder to muffle startled laughter. Besaid's fabric-sided huts meant that its inhabitants were used to ignoring sounds of intimacy that were sometimes inadvertently shared with half the village, but Auron's expression was shocked, disgruntled, and -- oh, Yevon, it was too dark to be sure, was he actually blushing?

"Lulu bathing," came the Ronso's curt reply.

"At this hour? Good grief."

There was a brief pause, followed by a muffled thump, a yelp, and Kimahri's blunt, "Go away."

"Aww, c'mon..."

"Brat," Lulu whispered, still fending off laughter. "I don't think I'm in any shape to aim a thunderbolt right now."

Auron cocked his head, listening for the faint crunch of snow and fading footfalls. "Kimahri seems to have taken care of him," he observed drily.

"Mmm." She snuggled against his neck, going limp again.

"Lulu." The sound of his voice washed over her like forest rain. "You told me not to ask you until tonight. How do you feel?"

Giddy, she bucked her hips and squeezed, watching raw pleasure flood his stern features for another split second. "Like a goddess," she confided fondly. "And you?"

Warm lips brushed against her ear. "Alive."

~*~

Auron kept glancing sourly towards the trail while Lulu towelled off her hair, but he pulled up his collar and fortified himself behind his glasses to accompany her back. Kimahri was crouched at the head of the dark stairwell keeping watch with a spear across his knees. Apart from a gleam in his eyes and a curt nod when Lulu mouthed _thank you_, he ignored them filing past.

They descended the spiral staircase hand in hand, Lulu leading, Auron following behind clutching his boots like a child gone wading on the beach. He need not have bothered; Wakka's snores echoing up the chimney would have drowned out an Iron Giant's approach. Reaching bottom, the mage stole ahead into the warm chamber. She found the other four sound asleep, Tidus and Yuna curled up side by side near the brazier and Rikku and Wakka sprawled in opposite corners of the room. Only a few of the oil lamps were still flickering in their niches. Stepping carefully over the Al Bhed girl's toolkit, the sorceress retrieved one and glided back to the stairwell to signal Auron.

Her gaze fell upon a fresh inscription chiselled into the glassy wall. Auron circled behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders to read it with her.

_High Summoner Yunie_ (crossed out) Summoner Yuna of Besaid  
Tidus, Zanarkand Abes  
WAKKA  
Rikku Al Bhed  
Kimari Ronso  
Lulu, Scary Lady  
Sir Auron the Great

They drew together for one final kiss and parted, Auron moving off to stretch out beside the doorsill, Lulu seeking the warmth of the fire near Yuna. Tomorrow belonged to the pilgrimage. Tonight had been theirs.


End file.
